What Valentine’s Day Means To Me

{Editor’s note: Valentine’s day – a day filled with roses, gooey chocolate and long, passionate kisses.

Or not.

As in my case, once again, Sexy Hubby and I are apart on Valentine’s Day. I guess sloppy puppy kisses will be a close second!

Wishing love to all today.}


This is a simple story about a boy and a girl.

And as this blog has proven time and time again, by the grace of its name, you can trust this story is indeed, authentic.

Circa 1991

A girl, who had lived the previous five years away from her home-town, her friends, and her family, suddenly found herself plopped back into the nest. Full from a life of travel, and the vast experience of visiting exotic spots all over the globe, the girl was relieved to be home. Yet, her soul remained an empty chasm, unfulfilled.

The girl was in her mid-twenties – an age most poets claim a perfect mix of mild maturity and youth – and grappling with choices made, and those not made. She had already completed one “career,” yet wasn’t sure where the next one would take her.

Living in a small town certainly had its advantages, and the girl ran into an old friend of a friend one night, to discover her friend – a boy – had also recently moved back to their hometown.

This sparked great interest in the girl. The boy was a dear friend from high school, and with whom she kept in contact over the immediate years while he was away in the Army and she was living outside New York City. Yet, recently they had lost touch.

The boy’s friend told the boy about the encounter with the girl.

The boy was thrilled to know the girl was back home and began a frantic search through his numerous, yet dated, address books looking for the girl’s phone number. It was the same old number he had called years before, as the girl was, once again, living with her parents.

This boy was many things – dependable, reliable, staid, trustworthy – but one thing he was not – a believer in fate. Yet, after searching to no avail for the girl’s phone number, imagine his shock to have the lost phone number revealed to him in a dream that very night.

After work that day, he phoned the number that had surfaced in the recesses of his subconscious, and found himself speaking with the girl’s mother – who was delighted to hear from the boy, and told the boy where he could find the girl.

Not much later, that same afternoon, while studying at the local Library, the girl who was deep in study, received a tap on the shoulder. She looked up from her book, dazed, to find herself staring directly into the eyes of an old friend. Her friend. The boy she met as a Freshman in high school, nearly nine years ago.

She was so excited to see the boy, but since the Library is not a place to chat, they decided to go out for a drink and  catch up on the years they had lost. They chose an old favorite hang out, and after an hour or more of back and forth, rekindling their friendship, they said goodbye with every hope to remain in contact.

Several weeks went by with no phone call from the boy.

The girl decided to check on the boy, so she called his house. He was out. She left a message. He never called back.

So the girl called again. And again. And again. And again.

After the fifth phone call, the boy finally returned the girl’s call, claiming to be busy, apologized, and made a “dinner date” with the girl. She accepted, even though she was slightly miffed at his lack of response.

When the boy arrived to pick up the girl, he already had a special spot selected for dinner – a place outside Sugarloaf Ridge State Park, called The Golden Bear.

The Golden Bear was a quaint, low-key restaurant in the heart of Kenwood, one of Sonoma County’s prime wine growing regions. The boy and girl were placed at an outside table on the patio near the trickling Sonoma creek.

It was a lovely evening, and the boy and the girl found themselves lost in easy banter, local wine, fresh food, and enjoying the present company.

Up until this time, the girl viewed the boy as a friend. Someone she trusted. Someone who made her feel safe. Someone she could rely upon. That fine day, on the stone patio, in the shade of the wise, old Oak trees, next to the creek, it hit her.

The people around her faded.

The only thing in focus was the boy, who sat directly in front of her.

She was hit. In that moment, she felt as though Cupid’s arrow had struck her heart. She felt a warm, tingling sensation running through her entire body. Her head felt light.

How could she have not seen the boy – really SEEN him – before now?

He was funny. He was kind. He was handsome. And he made her feel like she was the only girl in the world.

In that moment – that one defining moment – as if the stars aligned just for her – the girl knew this boy was more than just any boy.

He was special.

And in that moment, she realized. The boy was more than a friend.

Perhaps all the feelings had saved themselves up for a single, cosmic blast. Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps it was the romantic, creek-side table in famed wine country.

Perhaps it was fate.

Whatever it was, it was real. And in that moment, an authentic spark of love was created.

The boy and the girl never looked back.

February 14, 2011

On a bright Valentine’s morning in Montana, nearly 20 years later, the girl fondly recalls the night that became her “First-Last Date” with the boy.

The boy who is now her husband {or as he originally deemed himself, Sexy Hubby.}

Without question, she’ll tell you, that spark – what she defines as “the love-hit from Cupid’s arrow” – continues to light the corners of her heart.

The infinite spark that transformed a friend into the ultimate love of her life.

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2 thoughts on “What Valentine’s Day Means To Me”

  1. Katie once again you have brought tears to my eyes reading your wonderful stories of life. I am amazed by your talent 🙂 I needed a pick me up as my Mom’s memorial service is Saturday. Although I will see family I haven’t seen in years it isn’t the best occasion to see them. However on this Valentines day I wish you and Rocco an awesome day. Sexy hubby may not be there physically but is in your heart 🙂 enjoy my friend 🙂

    1. Oh Judi, you are too kind.
      Wishing you healing and love as you celebrate your mom’s life. In the end, it’s only love that matters.
      Hugs to you today on Valentine’s!!

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