Dear
Philip:
Valentine’s Day makes me sad. I have been single for the past several
years, and this Hallmark holiday feels like the world is trying to rub my
singlehood in my face. I have friends
who are single who get together for a Valentine’s Day dinner every year, and
while it was always at someone’s house, this year it is going to be at a
restaurant, and I for one don’t want to have to look at all the happy couples
at other tables.
Should I go and be miserable, or stay home
alone and be miserable?
Lonely Heart
Dear Lonely,
If you’ve already
decided to be miserable, it doesn’t really matter where you are, does it? I vote for ‘go out and celebrate your
friendships.’ First, though, it might
help to brush up on your history.
Saint Valentine’s
Day wasn’t invented by Hallmark; in fact, the card folks are relatively late to
the party. Centuries late. The best most historians can figure, the
Catholic Church created the feast day in the 5th century to celebrate a martyr
from the 3rd.
The martyr was St.
Valentine, who served during the reign of Emperor Claudius II. Claudius had outlawed marriage for young men,
figuring that single fellas made better soldiers. Valentine, a romantic soul, quietly went on
performing marriage ceremonies, until Claudius got wind of his actions and had
him jailed and then executed. It’s thought
that Valentine passed a note before he died to his jailor’s daughter,
professing his love for her. Legend has
it that he signed his note “your Valentine,” and thus eventually gave birth to
the second-largest greeting card holiday.
But he wasn’t
killed for that note, nor is he traditionally celebrated for it. St. Valentine died for the crime of making
others happy: he was martyred because he saw the injustice of denying young men
the chance to marry, and he acted out of compassion and love. Love of fellow man. Platonic love. That he may have found a little of the other
kind before he died is terrific, but it’s not why they put the “St.” in front
of his name.
So maybe you might
consider broadening your idea of the celebration of love as each February 14th
rolls around. You might throw the
celebration of loving friendship in there, too, and recognize you wouldn’t be
alone in doing so: according to our friends at The History Channel, a solid 85%
of all Valentine’s Day cards are bought by women…and I’m guessing that not all
85% are addressed to men.
I’m so sorry that
you’re lonely, Lonely, especially on Valentine’s Day, when it can seem like
everyone else in the whole world is paired off.
The thing is, though, the world isn’t. It’s filled with folks who have never married,
or gotten divorced, or been widowed, or who aren’t particularly happy with
their mate. It also has its share of
romantic show-offs: those friends of yours – we all have ‘em – who feel the
need to shout their love from the rooftops and carry on as if they just walked
off the pages of a Harlequin romance novel.
(Pity them: insecurity is a sad, hard road to walk…and their
relationships tend to burn out as spectacularly as they start.)
If you ask me –
and you did, God bless you – Valentine’s Day doesn’t come often enough to waste
on a single Valentine. I’ve got
several. My lovely bride is one, to be
sure, but so are my daughters. So are my
friends Shannon and Liz. At some point
today I’ll send an email to Jennifer Estlin, my college girlfriend, asking her
for the 27th time if she’ll be my Valentine. Her fiancé will understand: he knows that
life is a little richer if we’re able to celebrate not only the people we’re
with, but also the people who we’ve thought of with love along the way.
Go to that
restaurant, Lonely. Keep in mind that
St. Valentine is remembered not so much for sending a mash note, but for
feeling so connected to his fellow men that he gave his life for their
happiness. Love like that is worth
celebrating.
Platonically yours,
Philip
