He had four daughters.
Whom he’d given a lifetime of Valentine’s Day gifts.
Each year, each gift, communicated “I love you”.
One gift survived the passing of time.
It was among the least expensive.
Given decades ago.
But all four girls managed to keep
their red plastic heart pin, rimmed in gold foil.
Every subsequent Valentine’s Day, the pins were worn.
A memory, a reminder, a bond.
These plastic pins weigh maybe an ounce – but represent tons.
It’s often the simple joys in our life that mean the most.
Money can buy a lot of special gifts, but it can’t buy what those pins came to represent.
Papa is gone now.
But the pins, and more importantly the memories of a father’s love remain.
Note: The giver of the pins, and the receiver of so much love from his wife and daughters, was my father-in-law, Charles Martin. On this first Valentine’s Day without Charles, we all remember his life, his love and his example.