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LCCC History Club makes book donation to library

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Barbershop Harmony Chorus quartets to deliver singing valentines on Feb. 14

<p>I&#8217;m back, and I feel like I may be crankier than ever.</p><p>Apologies in advance. I missed you all desperately. I love you. But you know what I don&#8217;t love?</p><p>Valentine&#8217;s Day.</p><p>This non-holiday is just a whole bunch of ludicrousness. What began as a day to honor Saint Valentine morphed into a tsunami of extraneous proclamations of adoration and dashed expectations for decades. Mind you, the poor sap was executed. We are celebrating an execution!</p><p>When did a holiday honoring a martyred saint become one in which men run around the mall, sweating and farting and panicking because they need the perfect Valentine&#8217;s Day gift at 5:30 pm on February 14th?</p><p>I sort of want to hand out boxes of conversation hearts to these pathetic homosapiens that read: &#8220;Empty the dishwasher if you want to turn her on,&#8221; &#8220;Victorias Secret is for rookies,&#8221; &#8220;What she really wants is a nap.&#8221;</p><p>And, please, for the love of Pete, why is the representative for this day a baby in a diaper with a bow and arrow? I mean, at least Santa and the Easter Bunny have street cred. Cupid is just creepy. I&#8217;m the only one I know who should be sporting a diaper these days.</p><p>I loathe it. And, to be honest, I think I loathe it because of my own husband&#8217;s 30 plus years filled to the brim with utter lack of interest in any celebration of love. Witness this recent conversation from my darling betrothed: &#8220;<em>Oh crap</em>! Valentine&#8217;s Day <em>again</em>? God, such a stupid holiday. I think I&#8217;m going out with Vinnie for wings that night. You aren&#8217;t expecting anything, right?&#8221;</p><p>Oh yes. I am expecting to punch him in the conversation hearts. That&#8217;s what I&#8217;m expecting.</p><p>My friend, Jen, was uber-excited about her Valentine&#8217;s Day treat for her husband. She is paying real money &#8212; not bit-coins &#8212; to have a <em>roach named after him at the Bronx Zoo.</em> A <em>Madagascar</em> roach, she is quick to point out. Like it matters. This is a thing, people. This is how far down the food chain we&#8217;ve fallen. Naming roaches. Is there a hidden message here? I think there is. And the message is this: Valentine&#8217;s Day is stupid.</p><p>And what if someone is not in a relationship every February? Why should they be made to feel less than anyone else? Are there greeting cards for those strong, independent women who don&#8217;t need a man to make their life come full circle? They enclose their own circles, and creepy Cupid should applaud them, not make them feel lonely and incomplete on Feb. 14.</p><p>Instead of one day a year with which to show our adoration to our people, we need to demonstrate love daily. It&#8217;s that simple. Some humans, like Nancy, have a hard time displaying outward signs of admiration and worship. But this is what he does do: He shovels out my car and defrosts the windows; he makes me coffee every morning; he lets me have the TV every night a Real Housewife is showing; and he sticks around through the hard stuff.</p><p>Real love is not one day a year. It is all-encompassing and non-denominational. It is an equal-opportunity emotion. Love is apparent in the everyday scenarios. Sometimes, we just really need to squint and read between the life-lines to get it. &#8220;I love you&#8221; can be heard from the smallest gestures to the grandest demonstrations.</p><p>And, for me, I felt the love from all of you these past six months, waiting for me to return. I love you back. From Nancy, I feel his love when he remembers to bring me a pallet of Panera bagels each Tuesday. From my kids, I feel the love every time they call me and ask my opinion about anything; from sneakers to dryer sheets, to life, and then ask for my credit card number.</p><p>Love can be blind, deaf and dumb.</p><p>But it is also what gets me up in the morning and puts me to sleep at night, and it&#8217;s what propelled me back to you.</p><p>Goodbye Saint Valentine&#8217;s Day. Hello, everyday love.</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck, of West Pittston, is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: Real love should be shown daily, not just on a holiday