Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Aspirations

When I talked to Mother over the weekend, she told me about her Valentine's Day. She got my package (and thanked me!). She got a box of homemade peanut brittle from L, who had promised it for Christmas but delivered a couple of months late, as usual. I refrained from making any comment even remotely nasty. You may begin heaping praise for my amazing self control.

Then I brought up the same subject I bring up every year: "Remember when Dad used to buy each of us our own heart-shaped box of chocolates and a card every Valentine's Day?" Her answer this year was the same as every year: "No." My dad put some care and thought into giving "his girls" a special Valentine's Day every single year. But Mother can't remember it. She can, however, remember every nasty comment made to her by her mother-in-law and every argument she and Dad ever had about his mother.

Please don't let me be that at 81. Please let me forget the arguments and bitterness. Let me remember the chocolates on Valentine's Day and smile.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Valentines

This is just about the sweetest Valentine's Day story ever. If you have something cranky to say about it, shut up. Seriously. Today's the day for cynics and curmudgeons to have a little down time.

Around the nursing home, the couple are known as "the lovebirds." The two hold hands like teenagers and stare into each other's eyes. He leans in to tell her a joke and she smiles. Whenever Carl says 'I love you,' Joan pulls out a little stone. Inscribed are the words 'I love you more.'

*sigh*

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Look! Over There! Something Shiny!

So yes, I suck at this blogging thing. I know that. I own that. I have some really good excuses but they would all sound so very very boring if I typed them. So in a blatant attempt to distract you from your impatience with me (all six or seven of you who actually check here every week for something new), let me offer my new stalking object. If this woman lived a little closer I'd be camping out in my car in front of her house trying to work up the courage to ask her out for coffee. Or something. Read her! Now! Go! There's nothing to see here!