Column: Why I Love Valentine's Day

Opinion

Every year about this time, somebody gets to sighing.

“It’s too commercial.”
“We should show love all year.”
“I don’t need a holiday for that.”

And I hear you.

Love should not be boxed up and sold.
Affection should not need a reminder.
The real ones show up in July just like they do in February.

I understand that.

But let me tell you something else.

For some of us, these holidays are not about the store shelves.

They are about family.

Valentine’s Day in my house was flashy. It wasn’t about grand gestures. It was about intention. My mama believed in marking a moment. She believed in pausing long enough to say, THIS matters.

She made it sweet. She made it thoughtful. She made it ours.

And when you lose your mother, you learn real quick that traditions are not small things. They are anchors.

We held her memorial service on Valentine’s Day a few years ago. It was her holiday, and she had already requested to wear red in her last days.

In many homes, tradition is how we keep people close after they are gone. It’s the recipe you refuse to change. It’s the way the table gets set. It’s the song you play every year, even if it makes you cry a little.

It’s memory with structure.

So when I lean into Valentine’s Day, I am not trying to impress anybody. I am not buying into a marketing plan. I am tending to something my mama planted.

I am keeping her in the room.

Some of y’all celebrate love every day. That’s beautiful. Some of y’all don’t need a marked date. I respect it.

But don’t throw shade at the rest of us.

Because what looks like balloons and pink hearts to you might be somebody else holding their grief steady with ritual.

What looks like “extra” might be somebody surviving loss the only way they know how.

I come from a people who held onto celebration even when we had every reason not to. We made joy out of scraps. We dressed up for church after long weeks. We cooked big meals even when money was tight. We honored days because honoring days meant we were still here.

Ritual has always been remembrance.

So let people have their holidays if they want them.

It does not cancel out your year-round love.
It does not make anybody shallow.
It might just mean they miss their mama.

And in my book, that is more than enough reason to find a little joy—Even if it comes in a box of chocolates.

This is a poem dedicated to Mamma Ros…

Wishful Thinking: Part 1

I'll get over you, I know I will

I tell myself I’m fine —

the world believes the show.

I smile through the silence,

through pictures dimmed and hollow light,

but every echo still calls your name.

They say time heals,

as if time were gentle,

as if it didn’t steal the color red

from every sunset that looks like yours.

I keep pretending to be brave,

to live like I’ve learned to let go —

but it’s a crown made of glass,

and I’m bleeding beneath it.

There are mornings

when the air smells like your favorite perfume,

when the sun hits just right

and for one trembling heartbeat

I forget that You- Are- Gone.

If I keep walking forward,

will the edges stop cutting?

If I keep laughing louder,

will the silence relent?

I’m the queen of holding on to pain,

and the ruler of wishful thinking,

pretending the story didn’t end

years ago —

when your last whisper of my full name

still echoes deeply in my chest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dowv39eV_Og...