Lisa Hoffman and Charles Atkins

Published February 9, 2006

"It doesn’t matter how old you are," Lisa says, "we still get sentimental over Valentine’s Day. That time of the year when windows are decorated with hearts and cupids. The mushy sayings are everywhere, like ‘Will you be mine, Valentine?’ What does that mean?"

"The window dressing is well and good," I say. "But I guess it’s a holiday to remember those we love. Sad, that we need to set aside a day for this, but it is an opportunity to reflect on your life, where you’ve been, where you’re going and the people who you love and have loved along the way."

"Old letters are a reminder of those shared moments," Lisa says. "I still get teary eyed when I come across a worn-with-age letter that bears the familiar writing of my first love. I was twenty years old, and was living in London during the blitz. His name was Fred and he’d take me on Sundays to Box Hill, a wooded area outside the city. We’d have picnics under a tree and walk through meadows covered in purple and white violets. One day, I went there with a girlfriend. But as Fred had always handled the travel I had to ask him for directions. Unbeknownst to me, he took the day off from work, and carved the letter "L" into trees along the path to our favorite spot. It was so romantic and made me feel very special.

"I just remembered," she adds, "that another time we carved both of our initials inside a heart on a big oak tree."

"So you and Fred were basically vandals," I comment, "defacing public property."

"No! How can you be so unfeeling? You don’t understand the mood and the importance. Years later, friends wrote to me, who’d gone to these woods and said the initials were still in the trees. It’s like a monument to our love," she says, her voice rich with emotion.

"Oh, please, it’s far too early in the morning for that."

"When you’re that young," Lisa says, "romance is still an important part of your life. Come to think, I’m still a romantic even at this advanced age. Despite people like you who don’t understand and are cynical and make fun of such an important issue."

"That’s not true. I’m all for romance and keep it very much alive in my own life. Plus, I’m a strong believer in making certain that the people I love know it."

"Do you love me?" Lisa asks.

"Of course I do."

"Aha!" she says, "that’ll get tongues wagging."

I shake my head and try to stay on topic. "While love comes in many forms: romantic, maternal/paternal, friendship, it’s interesting how it get expressed differently, across cultures and between genders."

"Men seem to express it more through action," Lisa says. "I think men are a little embarrassed to use words to admit their feelings. But women want to hear it. It’s a sort of security blanket. Candy and flowers are well and good, and there’s never anything wrong with a piece of jewelry, but I’d much rather have someone say ‘I love you’ and mean it than any kind of gift."

"I think that’s the core of the gender difference. For me, and I think many guys, words are cheap and actions speak loud. It’s a somewhat stereotyped image of American men being strong and silent. I might not say ‘I love you’ but I’d be more than happy to change your oil or build you a new deck."

"Change my oil?" she asks, not grasping the metaphor. "But I do like a Valentine’s Day card," she says. "And much as you try to throw them out, I love going through the old ones. Every so often I pull them out and reminisce about old boyfriends and roads not taken. There’s the English soldier wounded in the war who proposed to me based on my picture and a letter. I nearly accepted, but came to my senses when a girlfriend pointed out that I would have walked down the aisle for all the wrong reasons. But his letters remind me of his kindness at a time in my life when I was alone in a foreign country with no one to love."

We both grow quiet and think about the nature of love. It sustains us, feeds us, and is perhaps the most important of all emotions.

"It’s being there for the other person," Lisa says, "and sometimes making sacrifices so their life can be better."

"It’s also sharing yourself," I add, "and loving someone just as they are."

"Yes," she says, "it’s overlooking the flaws, or better still, learning to appreciate them."

"Uh-huh," I say, catching her drift, "love me love my clutter?"

"Exactly" she says, "just think of all these papers and old letters as the packing material for something precious, or like the setting for a jewel."

"Okay," I say, wondering if Tiffany has a line of trash-inspired jewelry. "Maybe that’s where the expression, ‘love is blind’ comes from."

"Perhaps," she says, "but in any case it doesn’t matter whether you give your true love a diamond from Tiffany or a pretty flower picked from the side of the road, if it comes from the heart that’s all that matters. Have a Happy Valentine’s day and don’t be shy about telling those you love, just how you feel."

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