Memories abound around sweetness of Valentine’s Day

Many events may happen in February, but Valentine’s Day seems to be the high point.

When I attended elementary schools (called Grade Schools then) it stretched out for a couple of weeks – buying or making valentines, signing them, putting them into the box in the classroom, and wondering if you’d get one from that special person.

Most of those days meld together with only one standing out in my memory.

The year I was in second grade, we lived in Darrington. Around Christmas, we moved to a place near Agate. My dad was a logger, and that’s where he was to work next.

We stayed for a few days in the camp and ate meals in the cook shack. The cook was Agnes, a jolly woman who seemed delighted with us kids. My brother Dennis, 4, loved Agnes’ pancakes. He insisted when he grew up he’d marry Agnes and have pancakes three meals a day.

My older brother and I rode a bus to school. Second grade had two students, Jimmy and Susie. I made the third, and a week later, a boy made the fourth. I liked the teacher very much. The new boy left before I did, so the class was down to three in early February.

My valentines were made and in the decorated box early. I didn’t know we would be moving to Vaughn before the big day came, but we did, and I was suddenly in a new school where I didn’t know anybody just before Valentine’s Day.

I understood there wouldn’t be any cards for me, although the teacher did give me one.

I was very sad.

A few days later, I received a package with all of my valentines! I loved that teacher even more then!

My second main Valentine’s Day memory was a plan that went astray. We had two boys and I was expecting our third child mid-February. Of course, I wanted a girl and I was certain this was my girl because I carried this baby differently. My mother-in-law made a pink sweater set, and we had the name selected.

A C-section was scheduled for Valentine’s Day, and I was excited about that, believing yes, it would be a girl! The doctor had to cancel and do an emergency surgery that day, so I was to go in the next day. Okay, a day late, but still…

I was put completely out, and the nurse said she’d write boy or girl on my left hand so when I woke up I would know. Barely awake, I looked at my left hand – nothing! I let out a cry and the nurse came running. I said, “You didn’t write on my hand! Did my baby die?”

She smiled and said, “Look on your other hand.” There was written BOY, and I cried. She was amazed, and I told her I was so sure this was a girl, and it was to be the last one I could have. The disappointment was tremendous.

Then my hubby walked in with a huge smile.

“I don’t mind having another son,” he said. He was the only son of an only son who had children for at least five generations back. “We can always adopt a girl. She’ll change her name anyway!”

I could accept that, and determined I’d love this little guy just as much as his brothers. We weren’t prepared for a boy, so he was three days old before we could agree on his name.

Yes, we adopted a baby girl later, and our little valentine was – and has been – a special addition to our lives.

This story was originally published January 26, 2018 at 12:01 PM with the headline "Memories abound around sweetness of Valentine’s Day."