Given that Valentine's Day is just around the corner, I've been spending time with my students discussing love, and ways to show someone that you love and care for them.
One little girl was very keen to explore the topic, "When a boy gives you flowers, that's romantic, right Ms, Kirstie?"
"Yes, I guess it can be," I responded.
She nodded her head as she traced her heart picture, "But what does romantic mean?" she asked.
Good question.
I wasn't really sure how to answer this one!
"Something is romantic if it makes the person you love feel excited or happy?" I shrugged, attempting to redirect the line of questioning. I really didn't know how to define "romance" to a 6 year old!
When I look back at the last 28 years with Ev, I can very plainly see that my definition of romance has vastly changed throughout the years!
I've been told that I possess incredible episodic memory. Sometimes a smell, song, or phrase will transport me back, even as far back as my toddler years, and I able to recall an event, or even the way that I felt in a particular moment in time. I assumed everyone had this ability, but I've learned that most of my friends can't remember that one time I angrily threw Kyla's "baby alive" down a flight of stairs in preschool (baby was NOT so alive after that one!) or the joy I felt when I opened the cool purple Northern Reflections T-shirt that Amy and Janna bought me for my birthday in grade 5. I remember it all!
One of my most favorite romantic memories stems from a magical night in March 1997.
I was 17 years old, had been dating Evan Lindsay for approximately 1 month, and was absolutely besotted with him (I've always wanted to use the word "besotted"). Evan invited me to a Raider party, which basically consisted of the hockey team, and whomever could fit in the unlucky host's basement. The team had just won a big game, Evan was MVP, I was dating the MVP, about to graduate high school, and sitting on top of the world!
I arrived a little late to the party, donning my Guess jeans paired with my Mavi jean vest over a white crop top (the Shania Twain "Any Man of Mine" look), wreaking of Malibu Musk. I looked HOT. To my shock and amazement, my very introverted boyfriend was dancing on top of a table, and chugging red wine out of a paper bag (we were at the mercy of the 19 year olds who pulled booze for us). Granted, our relationship was new, but this wild "party Evan" persona was very new.
Mark McGrath (Sugar Ray), "Fly" was blasting from a CD in a sweet JVC stereo, and as Evan saw me walk through the door, he locked eyes with me, pointed his shaky drunk finger in my direction, and lip sync'd the words, "Who knows how long I've loved you."
OH. MY. GOD.
Did anyone else just see Evan Lindsay profess his undying love for me in front of all of his teammates at a Raider party?
Apparently not...but I sure did.
I can still feel my heart completely fall out of my chest. This was my teenage girl fantasy come true.
That night, I felt like I was dating the most romantic "man/boy" (we were 17!) in the world. Even as I pulled the car over later that night, watching Evan violently puke all the red wine into the street, I just knew this guy was a keeper.
The romance just kept coming.
Every 3rd of the month (our first date was Feb 3) for ONE WHOLE YEAR, a box of 12 long stem roses were delivered to my house. These weren't Safeway roses, people! These were exquisite, perfect FLORIST roses. Evan often included a thoughtful note, or even an original poem, professing his very real 17 year old love for me.
I hung each and every rose, upside down, in my room for that entire year until one day my Mom walked in and exclaimed, "This place looks like a rose graveyard. Maybe we can toss some of these dead roses?"
I found out years later that Evan had been using his parents credit card (for emergencies only) to purchase my very pricey roses each month. "Well, it was kind of an emergency!" he explained...which to me, was also quite romantic. His parents may have thought differently! Ha.
After 28 years together, the romance isn't quite so "flashy." And...thankfully Evan is no longer drunk dancing on tables or using his parents credit card to purchase flowers for me (AND...I'm no longer wearing Malibu Musk). Because that would be weird.
Romance now is more subtle...but also much more meaningful and thoughtful.
Romance is preparing my tea for me early in the morning, so that it's the perfect temperature to sip as soon as I've woken up.
Romance is filling up the vehicle with gas the night before I need it for a work road trip.
Romance is leaving little notes in unexpected places, wishing me a good day or encouraging me to keep going.
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| Terrible handwriting, but lovely to discover under my pillow! |
Romance is cooking and freezing meals for me when he's off island for work (he knows I'll probably eat popcorn and cookie dough like a 12 year old!)
Romance is holding my hand and giving it an extra squeeze in uncomfortable situations.
Romance is not having to say a word, just sitting quietly together, thankful for your person's presence.
Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy passion, flowers, and impractical gifts on the occasion, but to me, it's the day-to-day ways in which he demonstrates his love for and pays close attention to my needs that also qualifies as romance now - a much different definition than my 17-year old self would have expressed.
Ev's been off island for the past 12 days for work, missing a massive "nor' wester" that produced 18-foot waves, destroying our landscaping and causing our pool to overflow with trees and debris. Needless to say, I'm really looking forward to his return this weekend. It will be nice to get back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Cheers friends - Happy Valentine's Day!
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| This pool...not so romantic! |
