Valentine’s Day Memories
“Random memories tell the stories of our lives…the difficult and joyous times that reveal who we are now, how far we’ve traveled, and who we’ve become because of our experiences.”
Valentine’s Day dawned, and I awoke keenly aware that my first year without my husband was predestined to be an emotional one. It occurred just one month after his unexpected death. I wouldn’t be creating any new memories. Gary’s absence filled the house, and the relenting ache of early grief was overwhelming. I craved having just one more time. One more memory. Hearing his laughter and feeling his hug! And one more Valentine’s bouquet.
Later that day, when I went to the mailbox, a neighbor driving by signaled for me to stop. I expected she wanted to chat, and I wasn’t really in the mood. She reached into the back seat of her car and handed me a single red rose in a vase. She said, “We had these left over at church and I knew there was someone that needed this today.”
A Single Red Rose
My heart leaped and the tears flowed—not just for the token of such kindness but for the significance of the single red rose on this special day. There is no way she would have known what it meant.
Though married for decades, Gary and I always observed the day in a special way. Gary always brought me flowers tucking a single red rose in to each bouquet. That rose held a romantic attachment to our dating days. I loved a bouquet of mixed flowers. But the rose popped up in our story so many times that I can’t disregard its significance and symbolic meaning of the love and commitment Gary expressed in this simple ritual.
Random memories tell the stories of our lives…the difficult and joyous times that reveal who we are now, how far we’ve traveled, and who we’ve become because of our experiences. They sometimes catch us by surprise and remind us of private, unshared moments. They expose our challenges, our triumphs, and victories.
Capturing Valentine’s Day Memories
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could rewind and capture the impact that memory made in our life? It is through those displaced memories that we “survive” when a significant loved one dies. We should never deny or reject those reflections of the past.
Difficult memories remind us of our courage and tenacity to deal with and overcome them. Happy memories provide energy and strength that fuel our mental health and endurance in the face of loss. In reality, we know very little about each other’s lives because we don’t take time to share the stories.
The greatest measure of support I have from family and friends is when they allow me to share my memories and listen intently with curiosity, and patience, even if I told the story ten times before!
Valentine’s Day Memories of Roses
So what ‘s the story of the single red rose? It’s a Valentine love story that began decades ago.
Gary once told me I was a rose in a field of wildflowers and hence he always included a single red rose in every bouquet of fresh flowers, a frequent occurrence. Thus, my first Valentine’s Day alone was bittersweet but warmed by my cherished memory and the unbelievable coincidence delivered by a neighbor.
Although you may be thinking my husband was a “romantic,” he really wasn’t in the usual way. He was a quiet sentimental kind of guy. He used to say, “Still water runs deep”. That’s exactly the kind or romanticist he was.
Not the kind that showered me with surprise gifts, embellished words, or romantic gestures. But rather one that showed love in his own unique ways such as: bringing home a rock with “character” that sometimes made me wonder. Or buying me a bakery-made birthday cake in my favorite lemon poppyseed flavor that cost 3 times the price of one from a grocery store. Each time, I quickly reminded myself, “It’s the love that counts.”
Roses pop up in the life stories of both my son and my husband. The day before my son, Chad, died, he bought red roses for his fiancé. And a bouquet of red roses appeared on the table at his funeral with no card. I later dried them, and the buds were fashioned into a special keepsake item. And someone left roses months later at the cemetery.
Valentine’s Day Memories May be Painful
Valentine’s Day pulls at the heart strings after the death of your loved ones. Happy couples sharing a special day celebrating their love can be very painful and may intensify the sadness you feel. You might silently wish for just “one more time”. Family and friends may not understand how your connection to your loved one could still affect you many years after your loss.
The answer is quite simple. These memories remind you about what you are missing. It’s okay to remember the love. You’re not clinging to your loss. You are honoring the covenant of your love.
Memories of Love Rituals
I believe that deep love really never dies. When our loved one dies, the love we shared with each other continues for as long as we want it to. Perhaps for the rest of our lives. When we love someone in absence, we continue to honor the affection and commitment we shared and that continues our bond. I believe that nurturing bonds gently nudges us forward with hope to live in our newly defined world. Honoring connection through rituals can be healthy and healing.
You choose to still live actively in the present moment reminding yourself that you are who you are in part because of growing through the stories of your life with all its twists and turns. You don’t allow past memories to consume you. Instead, you use pleasant memories to build the kind of resilience that beckons and gives you permission to experience joy once again.
Personally, the way I see it, my memories are the stories of our life together that gave us purpose and choosing to remember them gives me peace. Everything we did, we did for each other. Everything we experienced together prepared us for the moment when we would be apart. Memories allow us to persevere. Love to guide us through. Hope for better days ahead. And silently say, “Thank you for being a beautiful part of my life.” I wouldn’t trade those random memories for a field of roses.
Valentine’s Day may be a ritual wrapped up in roses, candlelight, fine dining, and an abundant display of tangible elements to impress loved ones. However, when a loved one dies, all that truly remains are the spoken words we store in our minds and our lifetime of memories that linger beyond the veil of death. They create a connection that can be renewed whenever we wish.
Memory of a Crushed Rose
Recently, I pulled out a tub of photo albums hidden in the corner of the basement which hasn’t been opened in years. (yes, this was before digital and selfies which makes it even more significant). I was looking for a particular photo and found a large white “scrapbook” of memories throughout our dating years. I chuckled as I picked up a letter and could still repeat with great clarity Gary’s military ID number that was part of his mailing address when he was stationed at Fort Knox.
Opening the chronical of early days, memories flowed filled with warm feelings of cherished times and the newness of love. A first anniversary card with a large red rose on it and a red velvet ribbon included the verse: “How Do I Love Thee. Let me Count the Ways.” Crushed between the pages, was a single red rose. Dried and withered but a testimony of the legacy that continued for over 5 decades.
On the first anniversary of Gary’s death, a dear friend of his delivered flowers to me. Included in the bouquet was a single red rose. With tears, I asked, “how come?” He said, “Gary told me the story.”
The story of our life and our love wouldn’t be complete if I left out the rose.
Read more by Nan on Open to Hope: Son’s Suicide Reorders Family’s Life – Open to Hope
Learn more about Nan’s work at Wings – A Grief Education Ministry
