Tristan (age 5) entered my living room tonight and looked around.
“Dad. Why are there hearts up here? It’s MARCH!”
Yes, Tristan, it’s March, and Grandma still has the valentines hanging across the mantle. What you don’t know, Tristan, is that in the previous 45 Februaries, I never once had a Valentine’s Day decoration displayed. Grandma isn’t really the “decorate for every holiday” kind of Grandma.
My kids will tell you that I seemed to endure/tolerate holidays rather than celebrate them. If the holiday had music attached, such as Christmas and Easter, that was a different story. Music was and is how I celebrate.
Call me a party pooper, but holidays just don’t excite me. I resist the commercial tyranny. (I’m actually amazed that I just wrote that down.) I smile and am glad for others who enjoy celebrating, but truth be told, I pretty much wish Halloween would go away. I’m not Irish; love (especially in the Valentine sense) is complicated; and I’m more inclined to want to go for a hike than watch a parade.
So, yes, Tristan. There are hearts in March. Right now, that seems okay.