Love

One hope I have for my son as he grows, above all others, is that he become a kind person. This is the first Valentine's in sixteen years that my plans did not include La Perla and the anticipation of something sparkly, ideally in Tiffany blue. I wanted to think outside the box (pun intended) to make this holiday memorable for both of us. Lobster ravioli, naturally, but beyond that?

First stop, Mom-delivered surprise heart-shaped Papa John's for lunch (old sorority girl habits die hard). The smile on E's face that I brought a Whole! Heart! Shaped! Large! Pepperoni! Pizza! to his school cafeteria was something I won't soon forget (and confirmed that NEJM journal article about the male stomach-to-heart connection).

After school, we picked up two dozen roses to hand out to residents at an Alzheimer's assisted living facility. E was not, to say the least, originally enthused about this concept, especially since it meant he might miss basketball practice. I said, "Trust me on this one, you'll be happy we went."

An hour later, our rose supply was depleted, and E had twenty-four new friends. I had to wipe a tear away as I watched him graciously receive four hugs, from the same woman, and then repeat to her, patiently, four times, and with a kind smile, "It's Valentine's Day ... third grade ... I know, my mom IS sweet."

As we left, he asked, "Can we do that again next Valentine's Day?"

My heart is full, and proud.