I was in 2nd grade, and we had just moved to a new state. My parents were in flux, as was our family dynamic. I didn't really feel like I belonged anywhere- at school, on the softball field, and sometimes even at home. I remember waking up one morning, Valentine's Day. I was excited, because as you know, as a child, Valentine's Day at school means parties, Valentine exchanges, and candy- lots of candy. I went to the dining room and to my surprise, there was a card and a gift for each of us girls, from my dad. I remember my card was a giant, folding zebra, and my gift was a bottle of Love's Baby Soft perfume. I felt so special, and so loved by my father. I remember this as one of the very first times feeling like my daddy's little girl: I was feminine, I was special, I was celebrated. I have never smelled Love's Baby Soft without reliving that special feeling.
The following few years, he did similar things- I remember a very ornately cut-out, red card in the shape of a dragon, and little gifties and candies on Valentine's morning that allowed me to start the day off feeling loved and special.
My father and I have had a hell of a ride since then- his Valentine gifts did not foreshadow a Hallmark-like relationship between daddy and daughter. But they did help me to understand, at that age, how loved I was. And as an adult, these memories give me solid pieces of evidence that I was (and am), in fact, loved deeply by my father.
I encourage all of you, parents or not, to read this article, and start Valentine's Day traditions of your own: challenge the commercialism of the holiday- take advantage of a day set aside for love- and make your own meaningful holiday for your loved ones.
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