Susan's Scribblings the Blog

Tag: valentine’s day

• Hearts and Flowers

  Posted at 5:03 pm by kayewer, on February 14, 2026

  Today is Valentine’s Day. For me, it’s a Saturday like any other. I’m not going to complain about being single, because that got old a long time ago and accomplishes nothing. What I will do is be pragmatic about what this holiday means for not just me, but for a variety of people.

  In the good old days when I took a train to work, I would see men going home on the 5:00 express with balloons and roses in their hands. Sometimes they seemed happy about it. Sometimes it was difficult to read their emotions. They did make the effort, and I imagined the women they went home to and the joy that came with the simple act of remembering the love sparked between them.

  On the other hand, I just read earlier today about a man who, upon hearing a random stranger’s compliment about how pretty his girlfriend was, went home and argued with her about it, and ended up breaking her eye socket.

  Why this particular holiday has turned into such a polarizing event is unclear. One thing is certain, and it’s that love and interpersonal relationships are not what they used to be.

  Once upon a time, love was simple. One person found the presence of another to be a thrill beyond measure. They met, they dated, they possibly became close friends or even partners, leading to marriage and a future filled with all the things life is made of.

  For some people, there is no simplicity to love. Back when it was an elementary school tradition to decorate shoeboxes with colorful applications and cut a delivery slot in the top for the big day, there were always one or two students whose boxes were empty. It was accepted. No effort was made to fix it. It was a fact of life that some people were simply not eligible for the basics of human compassion.

  Somehow the evolution of women also meant that men grew to resent us somewhat. We went from Rosie the Riveter who stepped up to do abandoned jobs when the men went to war in Europe and the Pacific in World War II, to the perfectly put-together housewife in a dress and apron with dinner, alcohol and a smoke ready for the hard-working man of the house upon his return. Then came the era of “free love” and rebellion, but human sexuality was still mentioned with restraint, followed by the evolution of openness about everything. It seems now that both genders have access to more information (and misinformation) than before.

  And we get stories about the father-to-be playing video games while the mother is in active labor or passing out when they show an interest in the process and realize how much actually comes out from something they, um, put in, nine months ago. And they get annoyed about it and lose respect for women. On the flipside, new mothers dealing with gaming addicts for fathers are not in any better situation.

  So, once a year we turn all the craziness into a box of candy (which is infuriatingly artificial and overpriced) and a bunch of roses forced in greenhouses and wrapped in pink and red for presentation’s sake. And this is supposed to be an expression of love.

  Whatever happened to human values? Respect and dignity are a part of love as much as that frisson coming from being struck by Cupid’s arrow. The poor woman who had her eye rearranged just because somebody said she was pretty is spending the day recovering. Some will endure abusive relationships, while others may be lucky enough to receive an affirmation of what should be true love.

  Why everybody doesn’t deserve such luck is one reason why I’m spending yet another Valentine’s Day alone. Whatever you’re doing, here’s hoping it at least doesn’t leave anything (including a heart) broken.

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• Better to Have

  Posted at 3:17 pm by kayewer, on February 8, 2025

  Some holidays are more difficult for people to navigate than others. Valentine’s Day is a particularly polarizing event simply for its implications and social cues by which we all judge our current life.

  When I was commuting to work by train, I would see men on Valentine’s Day boarding the car with balloons bouncing off each other and roses crinkling in their cellophane encasements. Some of the men carrying these tokens of affection seemed proud, while others appeared to be embarrassed. Still, some lucky person waiting at the end of the line would be receiving these gifts.

  Some other items were easier to carry, such as a big box of confections, or would be more easily concealed, such as a piece of jewelry or a small box with what could be anything hidden inside, such as a little naughty negligee. Whatever the gift, it was going home to somebody to whom someone has bestowed their love.

  The rest of us just carry on.

  What is more heartbreaking than to be somebody with nobody who loves them? The kid in school your children collectively bully decorates a box with paper hearts and drawings, and on February 14 finds the box empty (or the altruistic child who was taught well by their parents submits a token entry). The teenager sits at home while others engage in boundary-testing behaviors with others their age. As for the adults–the once-married-now-divorced or those who shrugged off the burdens of useless relationships with abusers or those displaying other red flags–the best they can do is sigh with relief and look forward to a possible future and a second try at a relationship. The person who has never been loved is in a world of singular pain nobody else can fully understand.

  The world outside the door of the unloved is like a graveyard populated by houses filled with people who tolerate your existence but don’t question why you live as you do. You barely see them all week. Your phone doesn’t ring. The only people knocking on your door are solicitors or religious pamphlet carriers. Retailers put on their politest face, and “That will be $25.98” may be the best thing they hear for days at a time.

  Social media is salt in emotional wounds, as endless posts of “my new child/grandchild” or “our trip to this romantic getaway” remind them of what they will never experience. Nostalgic pages remind them of events they never went to: anybody’s wedding, prom, class trips.

  They look in the mirror and see what nine months of construction in the womb provided, yet it seems to be insufficient for anybody else to acknowledge or appreciate. The days, months and years continue, and the spirit is stripped of any hope or encouragement. These are the people who die alone, surrounded by nobody. There is no obituary, because whatever they accomplished doesn’t matter to a soul.

  And this is okay. It must be, because it happens daily. We feel we have the right to be silent in ignorance of what that can do to somebody. We never stop to think that the old man who may not smell pleasant may have sacrificed buying a bar of soap so their electricity would stay on in the winter, or the woman with a speech problem survived oral cancer and is happy to be able to talk at all. We judge and reject without care, when that is exactly what some human beings need: care. Sometimes just asking, “How are you” and “What do you need today” can be eye-opening.

  But no, leave those people wondering why nobody loves them. That’s the humane thing to do, especially on Valentine’s Day. Silence in this case is not golden, but poison, and we decide to whom we give that poison through cancel culture and social rejection, which is probably the single worst thing that one can (or should) do. When the world needs love the most, don’t turn your back and say it’s somebody else’s problem, because in the end, we are all “somebody else.”

  Survive Valentine’s Day, everybody.

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• Volatile Valentines

  Posted at 12:36 am by kayewer, on February 10, 2014

  For those of us for whom Valentine’s Day is second only to Christmas in terms of depression, this is a bad time of year. Beginning December 26, merchants start to tear down the holly and break out the hearts. That breaks a lot of people’s hearts when they don’t have somebody with whom to share the holiday. Plus it gives you more than 50 days to suffer the heartache before the actual holiday comes and goes.

  And we all just got through one already.

  When you’ve been single for two months or two decades, all the hype can be amusing if it didn’t all serve to remind one of how little one might be loved in real life. There are stuffed animals of all types, in bizarre colors like purple panthers, and often they are holding roses or hearts or carrying some saying like “You’re HOT!”  The boxes of chocolates and other evil diet death dealers come in boxes saying things like “You’re Cool!” The idea is that a sentiment goes with the gift at any temperature.

  The food is eaten and, in the words of a famous chef (it might have been Bobby Flay), becomes poo the next day. The stuffed animal takes up space on the bed or gets relegated to a shelf and becomes another thing to dust. The manufacturer makes jillions of dollars because the stuff is overpriced at rates second only to Christmas.

  Some enterprising men go to the jewelry store for Valentine’s Day. They may be prepared to propose, and the engagement ring is a must in these cases. While I was at the jeweler getting a few watch batteries replaced, I was seated next to the bridal jewelry case while I waited. Inside the case were diamond rings with more to their pedigree than any dog in the upcoming Westminster Dog Show (which, for some reason, is usually held near Valentine’s Day). I, not one to wear rings for fear that some future date might mistake which finger it’s on, moved myself to the charm bracelets counter.

  Some people put a lot of pressure on this holiday. Their significant other must spend such-and-such an amount and buy just the right thing to prove their love. When I worked in the city, I saw men on public transportation struggling with the extra burden of flowers or the overstuffed purple panther.

  It does feel strange to watch the process from a totally observational point of view. It’s how I laugh at it all.

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