Valentine’s Day has never been something I've looked forward to nor been very fond of. When I was young, I was lucky to give out the cute little boxed cards like everyone else did. Never dated in high school; so for obvious reason, there wasn't any gift giving/surprise kisses ever sent my way.
By February 14th, 1987 I did have a very serious suitor. It was the first time this specific holiday had rolled around for my husband and I, but these 26 years later that’s not why it's a memorable day. It's most memorable for both of us, because it's the day my mother died.
The last photo ever taken of my parents together.
Taken: June 1985
It’s always a sad day when a life ends. As we know, it's always hardest on the ones they leave behind. Even decades later, it's still a difficult day for me.
I can't begin to explain how she suffered. Having nursed her to her death; I remember looking at her in her bed, my eyes filled with tears, thanking God that she was finally at peace.
To say the least, she was very brave. She was only 57 when her journey ended.
The photo I am posting was the last taken and the one that sat atop her casket. As my father moved on with his life, he entrusted it to me, and I still have it.
For what it's worth; when I wake up tomorrow I will thank God I am healthy, and I'll greet the new day. I will say a prayer for all looking for love, as well as a prayer for all of those that have found love. I will wear my favourite colour red, and I will also wear a cherished heart shaped pendant.
The pendant was my mothers and I only wear once a year. I wear it to mark the day. Each and every year I place it over my heart for a very specific reason; as somber as it may sound, after all these years it helps me remember. It's also personally symbolic of what I know to true.
... that she will always Be My Valentine.