Long ago, in the year 2000, Mike and I made a pact. We would never celebrate Valentine’s Day with cards or flowers. This was difficult for my husband to swallow as he grew up in a family that relies on Hallmark for all communication of feelings. We each have faltered in our promise one year a piece. We were young and stupid.
If I could get away with it, I would forgo all holidays. Not because I am an aspiring Jehovah’s Witness. It’s simply because I am sickened by the historical inaccuracies. I wish the Western World could acknowledge the flaws in our celebratory customs.
History of Saint Valentine
- Priest of Rome
- Bishop of Interamna (wherever that is)
- Martyred in Africa
That’s it. The Roman Catholic Church has very little information about this person known as Valentinus. His name is in the church record with no details. There are numerous legends built up about how he urged soldiers to write love letters to their wives. We don’t even know which Valentinus to which the day refers. Several men of the same name were killed off by the Emperor around the same time in the same place. No one bothered to clarify who was who back then. It is all lost to time.
The association with Valentine’s Day and romantic love came about in the Middle Ages, about after Valentinus was beheaded by Emperor Claudius. This is one thousand years after his death, give or take a hundred or two. This is the time of Geoffrey Chaucer and other poets who wrote sappy love poems alluding to Greek and Roman god of love
Let’s not leave out the all important fact that the Roman Catholic Church went out of it’s way to stamp out Pagan rituals. It is no coincidence that Valentine’s Day is set on February 14th. This is the ancient Feast of Lupercalia. This is common among Christian holidays. I understand why they did it. By changing the association of holidays, you can integrate into a society without offending it’s people too much.
History aside, what I loathe is the commercialism. I am nonplussed by my husband bringing me a card and flowers because there are fifty kajillion advertisements about how I will not love him anymore if he forgets. Get this, I am a romantic at heart. Somewhere in a dark, cold, corner there is a part of me who love romantic gestures. I may cringe at public displays of affection, but I love for him to do stuff “just because.” It’s the thought that counts. It doesn’t qualify as a genuine thought if Hallmark is shoving it down your throat.
