Blinding light streamed through the curtains and hit my canopy bed. I buried my face under the covers for as long as possible, but couldn’t escape. I cracked open my eyes. What was that on the dresser?
A stuffed leopard. A container of chocolates. My eyes widened. Now I was ready to get up.
I’ve received several Valentine’s Day gifts over the years, but is the gifts my daddy left for me to see first thing in the morning that I remember best. He was my first Valentine. He also was the one who prepared me for all the other Valentine’s or would-be Valentine’s that followed.
You might have a Valentine’s sweetheart this Feb. 14th. Or you may be widowed. Or unmarried. I’ve heard Valentine’s referred sarcastically as Singles Awareness Day. I’ve never lost a spouse – that is singularly different – but I’ve spent many Valentine’s Days alone.
I felt unwanted. Awkward. And maybe a little angry. Angry at all the hand-holding, kissing couples. All the pink and red hearts on cards. Angry at the married people who were 100 million miles away from understanding the challenges of being single. And the strengths.
Other valentines came and went. My daddy remained.
He wasn’t the boyfriend or husband I kept hoping would sweep into my world, but he loved me. He was an anchor as I navigated the choppy seas of romance.
I was 39-years-old when he died. And perpetually single. I’d wanted him to walk me down the aisle someday. That was not to be. My shattered world felt unsafe.
You might wonder what went wrong. If my dad had done such a great job preparing me for a Valentine, for a mate, for a husband, what was I doing single at nearly 40 years of age?
There is no solitary answer for that, just like there’s not likely to be a single answer for anyone who isn’t married but wants to be. I realize one reason now. By giving me kindness, respect, consideration and attention, Daddy was setting the bar high. He taught me how I should be treated.
And so though I fell in love with men who weren’t kind or respectful or considerate or attentive after the shine wore off, I expected them to continue to exhibit those traits. And I complained that they didn’t. And they didn’t like that. And no one likes a complaining woman, right? They left. And I was better for it.
I was getting over the last one the day I met Richard Wansley, 14 months after Dad died. He liked me pretty quickly, but I was still licking my wounds and still trying to figure out what I’d been doing wrong for 40 years. And basically what it came down to is I kept chasing the wrong kind of man. They weren’t like my daddy – and no amount of pleading would turn them into someone with his considerate kindness and attentive love. And once I figured that out, my desires changed. I didn’t say, “I want someone like Dad,” but I asked God for particular characteristics.
Turned out, I was asking for someone a lot like Dad without even realizing it.
The longer I’m married to Richard (10 years this year), the longer I realize he’s like Dad. Not exactly like him. But in important ways, like him.
Richard keeps the TV on when I nap because he knows turning it off would wake me. He includes me in discussions about where to invest money he earns. He thinks riding a bicycle is more fun if I’m along.
Our first Valentine’s together as married couple, he told me to pack my bags. We were going away for one night. He wouldn’t tell me where. He drove me to the Hilton in Memphis, 30 minutes away. The towering hotel my dad once took me to so we could ride the glass elevator.
Valentine’s may be a happy occasion for you, or it may remind you of something and someone you lost. Or maybe of someone you want but haven’t found. You have my profound sympathies. I grieved Daddy deeply for years, and I still miss him, but I’m so glad that what he left me gave me the tools I needed to find happiness again. Yes, with Richard, but also with life.
When we know we’ve been loved – really, really loved – we will never forget it. We won’t accept abuse or neglect for long. We know we have value because we know we were loved.
And that changes everything.
How did the true expression of love change your life? Tell me a story about one way it strengthened you during a difficult circumstance.
Copyright © 2019 by Toni Lepeska. All rights reserved. www.tonilepeska.com
Sniff, sniff. Tissue, tissue. So beautiful!
Hugs my friend
. I buried my face under the covers for as long as possible, but couldn’t escape. I cracked open my eyes. What was that on the dresser?
A stuffed leopard. A container of chocolates. My eyes widened. Now I was ready to get up.