grief · love · my sister

Valentine’s day

I’m not a big Valentine’s day fan. I think it’s such a marketing gimmick.  Throw a heart on it, charge triple. Such a scam. 

 But my sister, she loved the idea of behind Valentine’s day. 

 The romance.

The passion. 

All the other thoughts she was sure Valentine’s day brought out in people.

Even though, according to her, she had never had a “great” Valentine’s day. I feel she set a ridiculous standard on a marketing holiday. 

My sister’s third son was born on Valentine’s day. He waited. She was so excited. Me, eh not so much. I was there. It was taking forever. We spent the day chatting. Me giving her ice chips between contractions. 

I kept telling her belly he needed to get moving already. Finally, he decided it was show time.

I watched him slide on out through tears. I claimed I had something in my eyes. Some dust must have gotten in both of them. She noticed. Got that smerk she would get.She tapped her boyfriend. Got the nurses’ attention. 

“It’s a Valentine’s day miracle!! My sister’s crying”

I assured the nurses my sister was crazy, delusional and seeing things. 

Her boyfriend left to make calls, run some errands. 

I sat there for awhile with her, rubbing her hair. She was slipping to sleep. I got up. I was ready to go. She grabbed my hand, “Just a little longer”. 

I stayed. Of course I did. I always ended up doing what she wanted. I was frustrated. I mean, she didn’t just have my baby….

“Kate, I love you. Thanks for sharing the best Valentine’s day with me”

Damn it..

“No Problem. Of course it was the best one ever. I was here”. 

We laughed. She threw a pillow at me. 

That was my favorite Valentine’s day. It still is. Probably always will be. 


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