“We have all a sufficiently hard battle to fight in life and we fight it a great deal better from feeling that we have a wall of friendship which we stand up against and have only to think about the foe in front of us.” ~ Isabella Stewart Gardner
When you think about it, the first way most of us learn about Valentine’s Day is not in any romantic sense, but in a loving friendship sort of way. In grade school, we were tasked with creating card receptacles for any Valentines we would receive. These little bags were secured to the edge of our desks, and we would go around and deposit the Valentine’s Day cards we wished in our classmates’ bags. Looking back, this feels extremely dangerous – it left the possibility for empty bags for the unpopular among us, and though that never happened to my recollection, it did make it obvious whose bags were full and whose were notably on the lighter side. I’m trying to remember if I was ever cruel enough to not give out a card to anyone, and though it sounds like something I might relish in doing (especially to Sammy, who was mean as a viper to many of us) I honestly think my mother made me fill out cards for everyone.
Back then, Valentine’s Day was a frivolous and frilly holiday where some of my favorite colors were celebrated and sanctioned for all (pink and red, whoo-hoo!!!) Hearts and flowers were the order of the day, and I loved both. It was a day of artifice – of lace doilies and conversation candy in all sorts of pastels – and I thrilled at it all. Underneath that, however, was the collection of Valentine cards from all my classmates. I was popular enough to get one from everyone – even Sammy, I’m pretty sure – and most came with personal messages from friends. How could anyone not like such a day? That celebration of love – in the name of friendship – has remained with me over the years. Despite the awfulness that became the holiday once I was old enough to be cognizant of being single and alone during my early twenty-something years, part of it still touched my heart. Yes, it’s silly and foolish and an absolute travesty to celebrate not being alone (as if there’s anything intrinsically better about someone who has paired off), I still believe in the celebration of love. When it’s the platonic love among lifelong friends, how can anyone be bitter about that?
Eventually we outgrew the Valentine Card bags, and even the friendships of grade school. Yet whenever ‘That’s What Friends Are For’ plays in a store or on the radio, I think back to the group we were then, back when we as kids were all more or less friendly in spite of our gender or race or financial situations. When left to our own devices, we as children tend to have our shit together better than most adults who only want to separate and label and divide. Valentine’s Day reminds me of that love.
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