my van halen valentine
Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” kept playing in my head whenever I saw my son’s dashing drama teacher. I was a single mom, invisible in the crowd of parents after every school play. One lonely Valentine’s night, I went to a rehearsal of “Romeo and Juliet” for my son. I smiled at Mr. Fuller like a nervous teenager. During a break, he sat down next to me and said, “Where’s your Valentine tonight?” Turns out, he was right next to me. We got married two years later, blasting Van Halen out the window as we drove through the streets of Birmingham on our honeymoon. , Julie Fuller
flowers from my father
From the age of 23 to 33, I got flowers from my parents every Valentine’s Day. Maybe they took pity on me, because my couple of friends left and I was left alone. Or maybe it was my father’s way of healing our untold divide. He was an immigrant from India who wanted me to retain Gujarati culture and find financial independence, and I was a rebellious daughter who wanted creative freedom and abandoned the hyphenated identity that comes with being a second generation. I believe the flowers were my father’s way of saying, “I love you for who you are, always.” , Nidhi R Mehta
‘Just like you’
Alexa and I were friends, then best friends, then something exciting and golden. We joked that we were dating so many times that people believed us. Instead of fixing them, we walked around our high school holding hands and daydreamed about buying a house together in Tennessee. On Valentine’s Day in 2020, Alexa got me a postcard from a Tennessee mansion. The caption declared it beautiful; He circled the word and wrote, “Exactly like you.” Three years later, that postcard hangs by my bed, and I consider myself lucky to be in love with the only girl who called me beautiful. , Ella Sherman
Peaches’ Last Message
Grandma Peaches has always loved Valentine’s Day. In 2008, she enlisted her two adult granddaughters, Rebecca and Judith, to help her create handmade cards for all 21 of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Overcoming both weakness and dementia, Peaches sat straight at her desk and signed each card. On February 14 that year, while I was on my way to yoga class, I got a call. Grandma Peaches had left this earth. Later that day, my card arrived, containing his final message of love. , Brenda Bernstein