Though I haven't dwelled on holidays - Hallmark has that niche nicely covered - I have managed to at least cryptically acknowledge most of the major ones once since the inception of my blog in March 2011. I've also invented a new holiday for every August 1 since 2012, that lonely month without a single day that compels many of us to visit a card store or gift shop or florist.
But somehow February 14 has slipped by five times without a bell curve nod to my Valentine of thirty nine years. What kind of romantic am I? Still, it could be worse. Imagine the reaction of Simone De Beauvoir when she first heard Jean Paul Sartre - her lifelong companion - characterize love as "... the fleeting miracle of coinciding emotions..."
Though JP and I are pretty far apart on this one, I'll save the mushy stuff for a private moment with my wife; she prefers that. But on this Valentine's Day, I would like to know one non-mushy thing that reminds you why you once fell in love with someone - present or past tense. When my wife and I sit side-by-side in a room, each immersed in a book, and we glance up and smile at each other - as we have many times since 1978 - that's no fleeting miracle. That's my charmed life.