This is one of these perennial dates in the calendar where you bustle around and think of buying – or if you are creative – making a card or a gift for a loved one. We don’t do St. Valentines’ Day at our house for several reasons, none of which have to do with buying a card, gifts or making something.

My rationale goes something like this:  Some years ago I tired of buying gifts or thinking about something needed or not needed but, perhaps wanted and then going out in a lather to get it done before or on the day of February 14^th.  I also tired of trying to sound cheerful by saying Good Morning each and every morning.  I decided to diversify.  Most mornings these days I say Good Yom Tov which sounds like gutyuntif, depending on your ancestry.  I say this despite the redundancy of saying “Good, Good Day” which is the meaning of the phrase.  But, although Yom Tov usually is reserved for Holy Days, I think every day is Yom Tov with me.  I am a lucky person and I consider each new day a holiday and a special day for I am in it.

Now, my wife and beloved, Carol, is also in each of my days so I am doubly blessed.  I cannot buy nor make a gift that will outshine all the rest of the cards and gifts we have exchanged over the years.  In fact, the cards say it all, the sentiments on the radio, television and in the movies and books we see and read are repetitious to a fault and there is nothing that I can add to make it better.

I think I know Carol loves me and she does not need a card that will only enrich the card company and give the postman something to do. I don’t need one either.  We gift each other almost daily anyway for we enjoy each other’s company and spend our time together as we are our best friends.

The origins of Valentines’ day may predate St. Valentine.  I am hazy here.  I think winged cupids also predate Christianity which makes a big deal about this non holiday. I think Jewish and Muslim copies of this Christian pastime are mere parodies and as such are interesting and might be amusing. But, the pastime is not a pastime as much as it is a commercial venture that is foisted upon us as necessary as all the other national days that require remembrances of some kind or other.  Birthday cards are a case in point.  At one time I tried to interest my son in telling me what he wanted for a service to him that I alone could provide other than a card, present or money on his birthday.  He still, years later, has not replied.

So, we don’t’ do St. Valentine’s Day at our house. I would rather be greeted with a kiss and a hug and have Carol tell me the itinerary of another one of these lovely Florida days.