Valentine's Day Memories

I'm not going to spend time describing the emotional pain we all went through, the medical visits, the hopes raised and then dashed, or the details of Jean's last days. Suffice it to say she passed away in my arms about a year and a half ago. Our three children were there with their older children, so she left this world surrounded by as much love as we could generate.

Jean was already in hospice care as Valentine's Day approached, and true to our traditions we had exchanged Valentine's Cards one last time. I chose the card that I knew was her favorite, the first one that I ever gave her, even though the satin bow was now stapled on. I brought in the entire envelope of cards that she had given me in past years so that she could choose one from the group for me.

I had inscribed part of hers as follows, "To Jean, the love of my life. There could never be another you. I will love you always and forever. Love, Jake."

I gave Jean the card I had picked for her at the same time as I gave her the envelope of cards so that she could choose one for me. After reading mine she seemed to know which one she wanted, and picked it out without any indecision. She then spent the next few minutes reading and rereading my card to her.

At one point she closed her eyes and I thought she had fallen asleep, as I knew that the painkilling medication she was receiving intravenously made it hard for her to stay awake.

I'm sure now that she was just thinking, as she soon opened her eyes and picked up the card she had chosen to give to me. It was difficult for her to write, but she soon had written what she intended on the card and handed it to me.

Her message to me was, "I have loved you thoroughly and completely since almost the day we met. Forever is a long time Jake, so some day after I'm gone I want you to carry on with your life. Try to meet someone. You have too much love and life in you to waste it in grief. Love forever, Jean."

This message instigated the only disagreement we had since she had entered hospice care. I finally agreed to respect her wishes, in order to get her to calm down and not spend any of our last days together in discord.

It was one of the few times I ever told her a lie, but I considered it a little white lie, told to simply placate her. A short while later she was asleep, and I placed the two cards on a shelf in front of her bed where she could see them when she woke up. Not quite three weeks later she passed.

* * * *

As I said, Jean's been gone for almost a year and a half. I've pretty much spent my time since that day feeling sorry for myself, and keeping busy around the house. It's amazing the projects you can find when you have a lot of time on your hands. I've even acquired an old car that I intend to fully restore. The engine is rebuilt, and the entire car is in pieces in my garage. I work on it nearly every day for at least an hour or two.

I've been hoping it will be completed before I join Jean.

Marie and Robert, our two oldest children, both live in town with their families. Sheila, her husband, and their two children, live about a day's drive west of here. Marie and Robert seem to take turns dropping in to check on me every few days, and my two oldest grandchildren, Marie's daughters Kelli and Bridget, have been trying to help keep me occupied.

About six months ago they set up a site on my computer so that I could be a part of the wildly popular social networking scene. It's amazing what they know about computers, and they're hardly even teenagers

I'm not much into that, preferring to use my computer for searching for car parts and reading up on projects or information that I need. Needless to say, they are right into all of this new computer stuff, and I now have a site with a whole lot of friends. One nice thing about it is that I can keep track of how Sheila and her family are making out.

I actually find that I check it every few days to see what new pictures have been added by my children or grandchildren. I've even added a few pictures of my own, starting with some of my favorite pictures of Jean. A few friends my own age have surprised me by creating their own pages. I now exchange a lot of stories and jokes with them.

A couple of months ago I got one of those 'Friends Requests' I'm sure you've all gotten, from someone you don't seem to know. In this case I almost deleted it before the name of the requester, Eve Gillespie, struck a note with me.

After a couple of days I decided to accept Eve Gillespie, and see what would happen. In the back of my mind I wondered if it could be from Eve Klein, my first sweetheart. As I said, I've thought of her from time to time, not in a way that could be considered inappropriate for a happily married man, just curiosity about what had happened to her.

About a week after I accepted that request, I got a message from Eve Gillespie, who indeed was the Eve of my early high school years. We've carried out a slow exchange of e-mail messages since then, filling each other in on our lives since we were torn apart by her father's promotion.

She lost her husband about five years ago to a drunk driver, and now spends most of her time visiting her two children and four grandchildren, who all live within a couple of hours of Halifax, where Eve still lives.

Several weeks ago she suggested that perhaps we could get together for a visit some day. She mentioned that very casually, and I never really answered her. I had immediately thought of Jean and my determination to honor her memory by living out my life quietly and simply while I waited to join her.

That determination got shaken up a little when I started thinking about Valentine's Day, and my connection to it throughout my life. I went and got the box full of the cards Jean and I exchanged over the years, and pulled out the two envelopes of Valentine's Day cards. The last two that we exchanged are on the end table beside me now.

I've reread Jean's message to me several times, and I'm conflicted now on whether or not I should take her at her word. A large part of me wants to carry on as I have since her death, but another part of me wonders if I should take Eve up on her suggestion that we meet for a visit.

I have to admit that I've thought about her quite a bit now that we have been in touch by e-mail. She was my first love, but it's hard to say whether anything would've actually come from that had the fates not intervened to take the decision out of our hands.

We haven't spoken yet, other than by the exchanged e-mail messages, but I think maybe I will call her tonight. I searched the online directory and found her number, and I think perhaps it's time to make that call. It may be foolish to think it, but perhaps life really is a circle as is implied by the old saying 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust'.

Perhaps it's time to find out if Eve to Eve could be part of that larger circular equation.

This past Valentine's Day was the first in many, many years that I did not exchange cards with anyone.

While looking out the window at the snow and taking another sip of Glenlivet, I'm left wondering if that could change in a few months.

Time will tell, won't it?