Valentine...

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “I’d much rather stay home anyway.”

But I knew she didn’t mean it. I could see the pain clearly on her face. Her cap of gray hair shone almost silver against her festive red sweater. Alone all her life, she now has someone who loves her, someone who cherishes her. A true Valentine. And oh, she wanted to them to know. To show that she’s cherished. To walk in on his arm for all the world to see. 

But the banquet that night was for married-couples only. It has started as an open event  - married, dating, engaged- but morphed into a celebration of marriage and marriage only. As wonderful as that is, it was causing her pain. The office staff gossiped about the few couples they knew who were shunning convention and going anyway. But not her. She’d been the topic of gossip enough over the years – why put herself out there for more? It doesn’t matter that he loves her. It doesn’t matter than now, in their later years, they have found joy. They sit close together every Sunday morning. He calls to check on her during the day. Her face lights up at his name. But for this event, this should-have-been celebration, they have been deemed unacceptable, and shut out. 

We close up the office together. Everyone else is gone, preparing for the big night. My husband had to work, so I hadn’t purchased tickets either. We walk together to the parking lot, an empty stretch of concrete between our two lonely cars. 

“We are the only people here!” she sighed again. “What’s wrong with us?”

It’s not us, dear friend. And it’s certainly not you. They don’t see the beauty of your love, the purity of your affection. Your happiness together is not enough for them. He is a widower jut past eighty, and you’ve been single for sixty years. You have found joy in each other through simple companionship. You revel in this new-found affection, and they are foolish who do not see what a wonder it is. 

Don’t let their snub discourage you. Don’t let them damage your joy.