You know, the French don't really "do" Valentine's Day. Sure, you can walk around Paris today and see shop windows all decked out in shades of red, pink and white. Florists are no doubt pushing the roses, even on a Sunday when they're normally closed. But it's just not a big deal here, not so much on the national radar.
I knew Georges was aware of the day coming up because about a week ago he mentioned it, and also reminded me that his Little Guy would be with us this weekend. Which I had also remembered, and then realized there would be no opportunity for some "romantic dinner à deux". And that's OK, it's not such a big deal. It's more fun, I think, to have a romantic dinner out on some other night, for no reason at all except that it's fun to go out and be together.
The fact that I am so incredibly relaxed about Valentine's Day now, that I am not obsessing over it, that I can sincerely say "It's no big deal" is a testament to the kind of relationship Georges and I have. Since falling in love with him, I have changed many of my preconceived notions of what Love was "supposed to be", and instead I relish what it actually IS, as WE have created it between us.
But this was not always the case with me. I spent most of my adult life, and OK, all of my pre-teen and teenage years, longing for the day when some nice guy would shower me with flowers and Valentines on this day. Like that was supposed to prove to the world that I was lovable. My life, however, turned out somewhat differently. I can count on one hand the number of times when I was actually in a relationship at all over Valentine's Day. Every year when I worked in a big company, I would watch as many of my female colleagues would get deliveries of flowers or balloons. Oh, how I wanted to be one of them. So I built V-Day up in my mind as a Very Big Deal Indeed.
In reality, it's not. It's just a trumped up, overblown Hallmark holiday that plays into our insecurities and our inabilities to have romance in our lives in other ways. It's like Americans don't "do" romance all that well, normally, so we save it all up until it explodes on the 14th of February. But here in France, I don't think it's quite the same. The French -- in my experience, however limited that might be -- seem to ooze romance all the time. It's in their pores, I think; it's in the collective DNA. And in our life together, for Georges and I, EVERY day is like Valentine's Day, if we're grading on sheer romantic value. And we don't even have to make a big effort; love is always in the air. So who needs a special day to commemorate it? We have our personal anniversaries (when we met, wedding, etc.) already, and those are much more important.
So I have known for some time now that there was a good possibility that Georges might not get me any sort of V-Day gift... not because he didn't remember the day or because he doesn't care, but because it's NOT such a big deal around here. And the best part of that? Is that I DON'T CARE EITHER. Not at all! The girl/woman who used to grind her teeth every 14th of February, who used to sometimes cry because she didn't have someone special to spend $80 on a dozen roses, who saw Valentine's Day as just another reason to feel bad about herself because she thought no one would ever REALLY love her... that woman has realized how unimportant this particular day is. That it has nothing to do with how lovable we are. And why should we let some executive at FTD make us feel bad about ourselves just because no one spent a small fortune on flowers that will die in a week anyway?
Don't get me wrong, I love flowers. I love being surprised with some little token of affection, something I know Georges has chosen for me especially. But why do we need this day to force affection? There is simply no need.
Because around here, Love is everywhere, every day and in every way. All because of Georges. He just makes it that way. He IS love, personified. And I am the very lucky recipient of all that love, which is fortunately not something that comes in a box with a ribbon around it.
I got him something, anyway, although it wasn't really something I bought with Valentine's Day and romance in mind. A few weeks ago, I was shopping with a friend when I happened to spot something I knew Georges would just love. There is this French TV program with "Les Guignols", these giant puppets made to look like public figures such as politicians and others, and they do humorous "news reports" on them. So this DVD was to celebrate the 20-year run of this program. I wanted to get it for Georges as a gift, and I realized Valentine's Day was the next official gift-giving opportunity.
And now my loving, romantic, wonderful husband knows that he has a wife who gave him a DVD entitled "Putain, 20 ans!" (Rough translation: Oh fuck! 20 years!)
To my Georges:
We have not yet had 40, 30, 20, 10 or even 5 years together yet, but you give me a reason to smile and be happy every single day of my life since we met. And every day, I think of this and am grateful. Thank you for your love, your warmth, your humor and your caring spirit. And thank you for giving me a reason to give up my former unhealthy obsession with Valentine's Day.
Je t'aime, aujourd'hui et tous les jours,
Lisa
