My Valentine…

When I was six, maybe eight years old, my mom brought my sisters and I precious moments figurines for Valentine’s Day. I still have mine and I treasure it. I grew up, and as I did, I found myself not being very lucky in love. I became resentful, not appreciating the love my mom shared with me on Valentine’s Day.

Fortunately, my mom has always been my best friend. I confided in her about my sadness over not having a special someone for Valentine’s Day. I was assured by all my loving family members that finding love was my right and any young man would be fortunate to have me as theirs.

My mother reminded me that she would always be my Valentine. When she said that to me, it was a bitter consolation. When I was in my late 20’s, I reflected on that conversation. I felt shame for not appreciating the unconditional love my mother had for me. I decided right then and there to change my thought on the matter.

A mother’s love is unwavering. She sees everything in you, no matter how wrong you see yourself. I understood that I would always be loved by her in the only way that mattered. If there wasn’t a man with enough of the Lord’s good sense to see all the things my mother armed me with to be a catch, then I didn’t need them.

God placed a good man in my path. We love each other in a very deep and meaningful way. We have traveled a road filled with ups and downs. We have a son that is the light in my mother’s life, as he is most certainly ours. I owe her my existence and she would offer hers for mine.

Forever my Valentine.