I came downstairs after a long day working on my laptop, and peered into the living room. Propped on top of the mantelpiece our two Valentine’s Day cards, mine and hers, lingered. “You’re the woman I always hoped I’d find,” said mine; from her, I received a red heart filled with “I Love You’s”. With Valentine’s Day a week away, an outsider might think, “Oh, how sweet. They got an early start this year. Their hearts were so overflowing with love that they had to surprise each other with early cards.”
Valentine's Day Cards: Save Them or Toss Them? Click To TweetTake Another Look at the Valentine’s Day Cards
Oh, silly people. Yes, of course, my wife and I love each other, but look closer at those cards. Look at the yellow edges, the microtear in the heart, the coffee stain haloing “always hoped”. They aren’t early harbingers of romance, signs of eternal love; they’re last year’s cards about to disintegrate, signs of two people who refuse to be the first to toss out the other’s card.
It doesn’t end with Valentine’s Day Cards. Birthday, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Anniversary, and Christmas cards overflow the mantel. Some of them have been there for years. Neither of us makes a move to touch them. We keep adding to the pile, stacking them higher and deeper through one family occasion after another.
First Attempt
Late February last year, I tried to take the cards down. I thought my wife was upstairs watching TV, occupied with some group of housewives somewhere in the world. I tip-toed towards the mantel and grabbed the stack of cards. I peered over my shoulder. No sign of her. So far so good.
Hugging the pile of cards to my body, I padded into the kitchen. Soft as a whisper, I opened the door to the pantry where our trash can’s filthy maw waited to devour Hallmark’s spawn.
Abandon all hope ye who enter here!
I popped the top of the trash can. I prepared to heave the cards on top of the rotten banana peels, apple cores, and remains of last night’s chicken dinner, when behind me I heard:
“So you’re going to throw out the cards, huh?”
Like Cerberus guarding the gates of hell, my wife had appeared out of nowhere, teleported magically from the realm of television housewives.
I sputtered a response. “No, I-“
“I guess that Valentine didn’t really mean a lot to you, did it?”
“Of course it…”
“That card came right from the heart, and now you’re going to toss it in the trash?”
My face froze. I glanced at the pile and there on the top was last year’s Valentine’s Day Card. “No?”
I about-faced and marched back to the mantel to return the entire armful of cards.
Her Turn
So you think she’s the only one with a sentimental attachment to cards? You think I’m the callous, unfeeling one? Hah, think again!
I caught her rummaging the mantel one night, picking up cards, making faces and hanging on to some, smiling and putting others back. She thought I was distracted by Bugs Bunny reruns, but – well, okay, I was, but eventually I noticed what she was doing.
Before she could make her way to the trash, I said, “So you’re thinking about tossing that Groundhog Day card, eh?”
She stopped. “Come on. Groundhog Day?”
“One of my all-time favorite movies.”
“What about this one?” She thrust a card towards me. “International Bacon Day?”
I bowed my head. “A moment of silence, please.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Think about all the omelets we’ve shared together.”
“And this? International Skeptics Day?”
“I doubt you’ll want to throw that one out.”
“National PI Day?”
“There are 3.14 reasons I got you that card.”
She propped the cards back up on the shelf. “Fine.”
And so it grows. This is what it’s come down to: two people living in fear, not daring to clear the mantel, neither wanting to be caught even reaching for a card.
Then Again…
I suppose it is kind of sweet. I admit that I’m a hoarder; I save practically everything: cards, playbills, park maps, books, ratty underwear – no, wait, I still wear those. You all know someone like me, right?
Happy Valentine’s Day to my wonderful wife. May we never throw out another card again. Who makes the first move in your house?
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