Last Tuesday was Valentine’s Day. I let it pass without a lot of fanfare. When you lose your Valentine, there’s no real cause for celebration. Rememberances yes, celebration no.
The big thing for me regarding Valentine’s Day is that was the day of Ruth and my first date. We attended a Plainwell Junior High School staff party at the school counselor’s house. We started teaching together the prior fall, been carpool buddies, but we’d never dated until February 14, 1970. We’ve been each other’s Valentines ever since. Sure, she was engaged to another guy in the spring of 1971, but we were together on Valentine’s Day. We celebrated fifty-two together.
This first picture was taken several months after our first Valentine’s Day. The second is from last year. We went to dinner with friends to celebrate. I don’t remember much about the evening. Valentines Day fell on Monday, and Monday was a regular golf day for our group. Valentine’s dinner followed. I can’t say it was by design, but rather, just what we did on most golf Mondays. We were creatures of habit.
The group asked me to join them for Valentine’s dinner last Tuesday, but I took a pass. Not because I don’t enjoy their company, but I just wasn’t ready to fly solo on Valentines Day. I think they understood.
Ruth and I were not big on celebrating any holiday. We seldom bought gifts for each other, because we had everything we needed, and felt free to purchase the things we wanted. I did buy flowers from time to time, but to tell you the truth, I thought about buying them more often than I actually did. I’m not proud of the fact and wish I had been more generous. Hindsight clarifies a lot of things.
If you’ve been reading my blogs, you know that I believe Ruth reaches out to me to let me know things are ok. There’s no pattern, just the occasional moment. This week’s been a bit of a personal challenge. I’m trying to get a handle on what lies ahead, and it’s been a bit of a struggle.
Ruth and I have gone without cable for at least nine years. We stream everything, and all of our accounts are in my name. Tuesday night, as I attempted to log in to watch my smart tv, a message appeared on the television screen. I’ve never seen it before, and perhaps I never will again. There were three rectangular boxes asking me to confirm my willingness to proceed. I was directed to choose one of the three. I don’t recall what boxes number two and three said, but box number one was about Ruth. It asked me to confirm her Gmail address. I’ve never known her to have such an account, and I’m very sure a Ruth Tebo Gmail account is not associated with any of our subscriptions, but I was stuck in a locked position until I “clicked” on her name. Once I did, everything operated normally.
I think it was her way of wishing me a happy Valentine’s Day. I’ll never know for sure but that’s what I believe.