St. Valentine. Well, okay, there were three. Or maybe more. The origin of St. Valentine's feast day is somewhat obscure. There was a roman priest who was marrying and otherwise aiding Christians under Claudius (II??) in Rome. He was caught and persecuted and refused to deny Christ in front of Claudius. The legend goes that he was beaten with clubs and stoned and that still did not do him in. Meanwhile, before being beheaded, he is believed to have performed a miracle- restoring the sightand hearing to his jailer's daughter. Valentine is derived from a word meaning "worthy".
Where the feast celebrating St. (or Saints, as the case may be) Valentine became associated with romantic love, no one seems to know exactly. I say that the St. Valentine who perished under Claudius was exemplary of the sort of fortitude it takes to weather a true romance. I'm not sure what that says about love- but surely St. Valentine had a love of God that he was willing to endure so much for such a small thing as to simply renounce his belief. I like this tale, this idea, because I believe, truly believe, that the only real possession we have is our character- which is ultimately defined by our integrity, whether it is loyalty to friends, family, country, religious ideal or other ideology.
Dean wrote me the following today. I have been waiting such a long time to get a letter like this:
Dear Amy,
Thank you for sharing this journey with me. I wish it was easier, or more relaxing, or that there was just more time for us to spend enjoying life together, us and the kids. You are special, and brilliant, and funny, and cute, and irreplaceable. You are a wonderful mom, and I know that you will do right by our children whatever happens down the road. Love you 4ever- Dean
So, with so many things flying through my head on this day- this cheesy holiday that tries to reduce one of the most essential and amazing of human experiences down to cliches of red roses, trite little rhymes and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate- my heart, for a moment, is full.
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