Another Valentine’s Day is in the books — another season reminiscent of romance, long walks in the park and sappy commercials that tug at the heartstrings. Although my beloved spouse, Pat, would never be cast as the hero in a Harlequin Romance novel, I know he loves me.
He has many ways of showing it. After lo these many years of marriage, he still pumps gas into my car, lets me run the remote on movie night and is always willing to give me a quick “five” when I extend my hand as if I want him to hold it.
Pat takes care of all of the things that matter. He hangs my pictures with exact precision, makes household repairs with ease, and just last week he fixed the washing machine with nary a complaint.
That being said, Valentine’s Day is not his day, and if you asked him to sum it up into a short sentence, Pat would tell you the holiday is just a bunch of nonsense.
“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?” he asked the other day when I mentioned the approaching day. Then he added, “And let’s not forget we have three kids in college.”
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “But I’m thinking of chocolate, roses — and how about a two-carat diamond?”
That one was a real knee-slapper. “No, really,” he said after he recovered from his bout of laughter.
“How about you write me a love note?” I suggested as I batted my lashes and gazed upon him with love.
His reply was reminiscent of a 6-yearold boy responding to a girl with a crush, when all the boy wanted to do was go out to the sandbox and build a makeshift road.
“I love you,” Pat said, “and you don’t need a note for that.”
Oh, he was really going above and beyond this year!
Some women might cringe at the nonromantic type — a man who never thinks of rose petals on the bed or a spa facial for a Christmas present. Still, I think myself pretty lucky.
As a Bob Vila type, Pat can build anything out of nothing. He knows how to repurpose like it’s his job, and his craftsmanship around our humble abode is not only evident — it’s enviable. Although he likes to keep me in chore boots, I would never want for anything more.
Pat pretty much set the nonromantic bar with his marriage proposal, many years ago, when he filled our engagement day with an agenda that consisted of picking up steel siding and stocking up on shingle nails.
Love was truly in the air as he moved his pneumatic tools off the front seat of his pickup so I could sit right beside him. As he brushed the sawdust off my shoulder, I knew I had truly hit the jackpot when it came to finding a good man. When the proposal moment finally arrived, Pat plunked a ring box on the table and said, “Here. Now, let’s hit the salad bar.”
While our marriage might lack the romance for a blockbuster love story, I would not trade that man for the world.
We have raised four sons together, worked endlessly to make a good living, and at the end of the day, we rest easy with a clean conscience and tired bodies that only a day of hard work can produce. When he looked at me on this recent Valentine’s Day and asked, “So what do you want?” I looked back at him and could think of nary a thing.
He has given me all that matters: a warm home and kids that, although not perfect, will go on to succeed because they know how to work hard. He taught them, by example, that faith, dedication and strong family ties will carry them through anything.
“I would love it if you fixed the kitchen door,” I replied.
“Oh, you’re so hard on me,” Pat said with a smile as he walked away.
Today, that kitchen door closes like a dream. It isn’t a dozen roses or a high-dollar facial, but, like my Pat, it is solid, strong and just right.
Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book “Are We There Yet?” You can reach her by sending an email to [email protected].