I know there are many anti-Valentine’s Day folks out there… for various reasons.
I like this special day, not so much for all the mushy him and her stuff, but because it gives me an extra special day to celebrate my LITTLE loves. I enjoy their sleepy smiles when they stumble in to find a little gift wrapped in red tissue paper, topped with a sugary treat. It is satifying to see the awe on their faces when they see that I can make pancakes turn pink, or create eggs in the shape of a heart. They are my little Valentines, and I love reminding them just how full my heart is because of them.
There came a day though last week when Valentine’s made me feel sick. The day I wandered through the store picking that special little treat for each of my sweeties.
I absently stumbled upon the baby section of the store and stopped right in front of a tiny white dress sprinkled with the brightest pink butterflies. A year and a half since I have held her, and my first thought was, “Perfect! That’s what I will get for Ellianna.” And then it hit me like a belly full of concrete. She is gone. I don’t get to pick a special Valentine surprise for her. The only things I get to buy for this little girl are things on sticks.
A frosted flower, a flapping butterfly, a wooden heart… things on a stick that can be stuck in the cold metal vase that sits atop her grave. That’s it, and it makes me so sad.
I miss that I don’t get to remind her I’m thinking of her with a special treat or a new hair bow. I miss knowing to buy her favorite color, and what size she would need. I miss getting to tie a red bow in her hair, and staying up late to cut her sandwich in the shape of a heart.
Mostly though, I miss getting to hold her and tell her how much I love her. So Jesus, hold my heart… until someday again I get to hold… my Chubby Little Pumpkin.