In 2005, Valentine's Day fell on a Monday. Lynn and I took the day off from work to celebrate. She'd about finished the course of radiation that had followed her November surgery for breast cancer. Marian's Dad had died a few weeks earlier, following his own seven month struggle with cancer. We'd just recently gotten our kitchen back from a two-month back-to-the-rafters rehab (and it still amuses me that with all of the life and death issues that had been our companions that fall, the most disruptive thing was dealing with the kitchen).
Marian was still two weeks away from her due date and we knew that things would get crazy again once the baby arrived. So I talked Lynn into taking a vacation day and told her I'd fix potato pancakes and champagne. Then we'd go back to bed and watch movies all afternoon and into the evening.
It didn't work out that way -- Marian called just as we were finishing brunch, Lynn left for the hospital about 1:30 and Josie was born six hours later.
It was a strange afternoon. Mostly I read, finally fixed myself some supper. Lynn called from time to time to give me an update. Things seemed to be moving along faster than the doctors were predicting -- as I recall, Marian was pretty eager to be done with this!
Finally I got the call that Josie was born. Lynn's voice was giddy -- she asked me if I wanted to come see the baby. "No, I'll come out tomorrow and see her -- I'm just glad everybody's doing fine."
Then I heard the little cry in the background. "I'll be there in forty-five minutes," I said. And I was.
So much for Valentine's Day. We'd been pre-empted. So yesterday we tried again. Josie had her birthday party with her friends on Saturday, and on Sunday the four of us went ice-skating and had a steak dinner at our house. And yesterday Lynn and I finally had the Valentine's Day we'd started to have five years ago. Champagne brunch, a lazy day in bed, roses & presents...
It was perfect.