I love Valentine's Day. Now, before you start gagging, it's not because of all the lovey dovey stuff. Well, it is, but not in the romantic way.
One of my favorites childhood memories is of Valentine's Day. Coming downstairs into the kitchen to find a bag of treats at your seat. My mother reused the same bas every year (I wish I could be that organized), and there were always Russell Stover chocolate hearts that came in a tray. Another staple: red hots. This evening, as I was in the store buying candy for my kids, the cinnamony smell of red hots wafted over to me, and woooosh! I was back in the kitchen at parents house.
Tonight, I was on the phone with my mom as I prepared for our festivities. I was taping pencils to the kids' valentine cards for school, and my mother asked me - are you doing anything at home? I said - yup, and she replied - I love that you do that!
What? Of course I do it, and I do it because my mom raised me to. It was my mom's influence that helped form the meaning of Valentine's day for me. Valentine's Day has never been a romantic holiday for me. It has been a time to tell the people in your life that you love them. It's a family celebration of the love you feel for one another. It's a cozy holiday, filled with sweets and snuggle time, and then church in the evening, for the Entrance of The Lord Into the Temple. I have all of that to thank my mom for. Thanks, I love you, and you are a great mom!
Some shots from tonight's preparations: