I don't think I have ever cried on Valentine's Day before in my life, but here I sit...doing just that. This is a hard one...I'm used to waking up to find a card and sometimes a "treat" on the kitchen counter. He always picked out the most beautiful cards on every occasion...Valentine's, Mother's Day, Anniversary, Birthday, and Sweetest Day. I would always call my Mom first thing and read her the card and she would comment "Boy he does a nice job." It meant alot to know that he had been in that card aisle, thinking of me, and taking the time to find the perfect card. I've always looked forward to those special days...like a kid at Christmas I would go to the kitchen counter first thing to see what he'd left me. This year, the counter was bare.... So last night I decided to go through some of the previous year's cards from him (of course I've kept them ALL!) and I have spent the morning reading through them...I even called Mom and read one to her...and of course she made her usual comment. Now I've decided this is what I will do from now on. Pull out those cards when each special day comes and read them...for a glimpse of how it used to be...maybe I'll even put them on the counter the night before...