Help a man through the first Valentine's Day without his lovey.

     My father left a little note for his wife every morning.  Sometimes it was written in Italian.  Other times it was written backwards so that she had to hold it up to a mirror for its message.  He called each day during his lunch break so that they could hear each others voice.  At 4:30pm my Mom and I would head down to the subway station and await the right pair of shoes descending down the steps...they led to a man thrilled to greet us.  Smiles and hugs started off our evening.  He would buy her flowers just because their beauty reminded him of her and not because he was in trouble.  Sometimes flowers weren't enough and some random token of love would surprise her.  This man raved over every single meal no matter how many she had prepared for him.  She never touched a dish after dinner.  He scrubbed them and put them away so the next day would be a fresh beginning for the family.  He tucked in their child and read stories to her each night.  That was daily life.
     He supported every whim and hobby.  Drove us to any restaurant or museum.  Told her she was gorgeous.  He danced with her often.  Sometimes it was at a wedding, other times in the kitchen if the right song came on the radio.   He never made fun of her fears as neurotic as they might have seemed.  Her smile lit up his heart and her eyes softened his strength.  Each day was a holiday.  A gift not to be squandered.  She knew she was loved always.  I have witnessed all too many moments of them getting lost in each others gaze to not fully comprehend the levels of their love. 
     This seems easy enough for a year or two.  Almost 40 years later...she still got random cards full of romantic words of love.   If she had a craving he had his shoes on before her tongue licked her lips.  Flowers and plants and orchids were still delivered to her nightstand often and just because.  He still called her lovey.  
     A few years back he was in the hospital for a surgery.  They were apart for a day or two and when he was finally able to talk on the phone to a woman too ill to come to the hospital the amount of crying overwhelmed me.  Not from one or the other but from both.  They were lost... while only a few miles away from one another and only for a short time.  Some of you witnessed the sobs of a man who lost his sweetheart this past December.   They were desperate pleas to return to his life.  The cries were deep and tender and inconsolable. 
     Today I left a note to remind him of the day and its activities.  I got him a card that made him tear up.  I felt her whisper to me to not forget to salt the water for the pasta that would hold the bolognese whipped up from scratch.  The chocolate covered strawberries were prepared.  The grandchildren snuggled and hugged and giggled.  The pooch sat adoringly by his feet.  We had a beautiful meal on a bittersweet day.  This day started with a breathtaking pink sky and ended with more love than this heart can contain.  She was with us in spirit and inspired me to make sure all of those special people in my life knew the gift that they were to me.
     Each day was Valentine's Day to a man who found his dear sweet Sally.  Maybe he no longer has her here to celebrate the 14th of February but they were ahead of the game with how many special days of love they had together.  They were the lucky ones who had quality and quantity even though at 84 and 75 it was still not enough.  At the church the priest came over to a man lost in grief.  My father said, "My Sally is gone" to which the priest replied, "Turn around and look at your family, your daughter, your grandchildren...she's not gone....she's right there".  I think yesterday on a day made for lovers and mates, a day without his lovey...my Dad found a whole new batch of Valentines.  xoxoxo