When I was a kid, I remember sitting outside my parent’s bedroom listening through the door with my breath held and hand cupped to my ear. I had an instinct for those moments when they might talk about me, when they were going to smile with each other and say how amazing I was or smart or how much they loved me.
I already knew they loved me (and they often told me) but there was something like proof in this illicit act, something so comforting, knowing that in their private moments they liked me as much as I hoped.
When I think of Valentine’s Day, I think of that desire to know we are loved. I hope you feel deeply loved this week, by your friends, your family, and most of all yourself.
P.S. I have been out of town and just arrived home last night. I was sad to miss the great San Francisco pillow fight yesterday! See slideshow and fall in love with my city.