I have to admit that I have no idea. I hope he celebrates with someone he loves more than himself, surrounded by people who love him. On this Valentine’s Day above all others, he needs love.

Love is in the air (click here for the bad 1970s song), and I was, too. I flew back late yesterday from an eldercare visit. If you saw last week’s blog, you know that my parents have been hog-tied by the bonds of holy matrimony for sixty-five years. (My in-laws are holding at a mere sixty-one.) As with any partnership of any kind, there have been good years and bad ones, joy and anger, mountain peaks and valleys.

As I watch them, with Dad on a walker and Mom acting as his caregiver, I see one primary trait: selflessness. Their Valentine’s Day won’t be about red roses and flowers and champagne with dinner. (For one thing, they’d probably hurt themselves trying to remove the cork.)

Except for sharing my gifts of chocolates (truffles for her, caramels for him), today will be like yesterday. They’ll talk about when they dated and argue about whether or not my mother winked at my dad to attract his attention before they were introduced. Dad will tell Mom she is his sweetheart, and she will kiss the top of his bald head as he sits in the chair by the window, watching the world pass by.

They’re not always happy about being selfless. Dad hurts and gets grumpy. Mom gets tired of Dad being grumpy and gets tired. Every day, they get up and do everything all over again. Long-suffering. Consistent. Committed.

My parents exhibit the selfless love of Christ. They remind me that every day should be Valentine’s Day as we exhibit His love in our world.