V day …Blah… 

I was in Walmart today getting some late night groceries after a long day of work, soccer practice, making dinner and trying to keep up with laundry. 

I had to take quick detour to the electronics section to get batteries for the annoying beeping fire alarm outside my room that had been reminding me for the last three days of it’s pending death. I couldn’t take another sleepless night wondering if my house was going to burn down and take us all with it so I grabbed the D sized Duracell and headed down the centre aisle. 

I couldn’t figure out what the hell was with all the flowers in the store. Bright bouquets of roses, lillies and carnations decorated the centre of the hall, scents of red, pink and white danced in the air. How sweet. 

Then it hit me; right smack in the middle of the forehead and the heart. 

It’s V day. 

Damn it. I have to get something small for the kids. 

Petrified I head to the card aisle and that familiar ache in my chest came on strong. Disheveled cards professing love for ‘the one’ decorated in hearts, pinks and reds lined the shelves. Desperate to miss the ‘I love you husband’ and ‘My sweet wife’ section, I made a B-line for what I thought was where the kids cards were. 

But my wondering eyes couldn’t help notice the misplaced brown card glaring at me from above. Its front had beige coloured hearts lined across it with one silver shiny heart at the end. It was familiar. I knew it. 

I just wanted to rip it to shreds. I knew I had once not long ago made a precise decision to surprise him with this card, but I dared not touch it now. 

 Instead I make the quick decision to not get the kids cards, and opt for a small red box with heart shaped chocolates instead. 

We used to celebrate V – Day. We used to buy each other meaningfull cards. Usually simple, but inscribed with our own heartfelt thoughts and wishes for each other and appreciations of our love. 

One card he wrote me had said “Of everything I’ve ever done, you and the kids are the only thing I’ve done right. I love you Ker, thank you for being my wife”. 

Another read ” We may not have a lot, but together we have everything. Thank you for always standing by my side. I love you sooooo much”. 

I miss him. I miss the cheesy cards, and the expressions of love. The flowers, chocolates and surprising the kids together with a small gift in the morning. I wish I wasn’t grieving his death by Suicide. I’d rather be celebrating our love instead. 

B L A H. 

I couldn’t make it through the till without crying. It didn’t help that the stupid self check out was not self check out friendly tonight. When I got to my car I let it all out. Right in the middle of the Walmart parking lot. 

Our first Valentines Day together we had been dating for almost six months. I had meticulously planned a Valentines Day evening for us complete with homemade dinner; shrimp alfredo baked with cheese and salad. I even bought a blue table cloth to match the blue candles I had carefully picked out. I had bought wine and had a key made for him to the townhouse(sooo cheesy!)I had picked a black classy, but slinky dress to wear just for him and  I wrote him a letter. 

I wish I could remember exactly what it said. He kept the letter up until his last manic episode and that was the last I seen it. But I know I told him he was the one. That he was the one I spoke to as a young girl who dreamed of finding her one true love. That he was the person I had dreamt of. I told him how much he meant to me and how the last 6 months, his being in and sharing in my son and my life had changed our world for the better. How he was the man we’d both been waiting for. 

We had nearly 12 years together. 

Tomorrow is going to suck. Stupid Valentines Day. Stupid cards. Stupid chocolates. Barf. But, I’ve made a promise to him, and I intend to keep it. 

So though I’ll cry, and that pain will be there, I will try to fondly remember the love we shared. For nearly 12 years he chose me to be his Valentine. He chose to write those cheesy, mushy, lovey-dovey cards to me. We chose each other to share in all the good, and bad, to sleep beside each other every night, to parent together, and cry and laugh, and cuddle and just BE with each other for those years. 

HE chose me. And because if this, I’ll keep my Blah moments to a minimum tomorrow. I’ll cry. I know this, but I’ll also remember to rejoice for those V-Days we did have, the card we did share and for his choosing me. 

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