What is Romance?

It's post-Valentine's Day and everyone is basking in the afterglow of a holiday filled with hearts, chocolate, flowers, and fancy dinners. Right? Or not? Isn't this what the holiday is made for? Isn't this what every young girl dreams about when they think about the day they will get to share Valentine's with their special someone? Is it really love if you don't do all of these things and experience all of the feels?

I remember our first Valentine's Day. It was two weeks before our wedding and we were filled with all the hope and excitement of our life together. Everything was roses, though I couldn't actually tell you if I got roses or not, though I'm guessing I did, because, of course, that was expected. (And that was an awkward sentence.) We went out for supper at one of our favorite restaurants in Wausau, waited for an unremembered length of time, had our meal and left. What did we eat? I don't remember, though I'm sure we had cheese curds, (because they had the best), and french onion soup, (because again they had the best).  Two weeks passed and our wedding came and again, all the hope and dreams were coming true right before my very eyes.  Romance at its height, right?

Fast forward a few years and red roses came sprinkled with a couple white ones in memory of the babies in heaven. This man had stood by my side, holding my hand, supporting me as my body did the unthinkable and expelled these tiny little ones, committing them into the Father's hand, who takes the best care of them. Was it romance? Not at all, there is nothing romantic about pain and blood and grief and tears.  Was it romance when he stood by my side through a couple of bleak, dark winters as I struggled to see that there was any good in the world or that there was anyone outside of myself? It wasn't romance, but it was a deep, solid, abiding love, a love that said, "I do, no matter what" and then proceeded to live it out.

This year, Valentine's Day came at the tail end of a week of sickness, a week when I focused on keeping the little guy happy and not getting sick myself. We didn't have a grand celebration, just a quiet evening at home, enjoying Chicken BLT Burritos and Lemon White Chocolate Cheesecake. The next night, we celebrated with some homemade cream soda, more cheesecake, and a cheesy movie. Just a quiet affair between the two of us and the little girl who found some excuse to come upstairs and see what was happening because it was more than she could handle to be tucked away in bed. But tucked away she went again.

There's something I've been pondering this last week: are we hurting our relationship because we didn't go out and do all the big stuff on Valentine's? No, there were no flowers this year, there was no expensive date, there weren't even cards exchanged. There were chocolates and love and communication and drinks and dessert. It has been mentioned that we may someday regret not going out and spending money, because really we can't take our money with us. But what if that isn't the important thing? What if the money doesn't matter? Does the amount of money you spend determine the level of romance as perceived by the onlooker? Perhaps, it does. But does the amount of money spent determine the level of love? No, a thousand times no.  I do think the thing to regret is not taking intentional time to be together and that is something we are trying hard to do.

After reading a few other blog posts and comments, I reach this conclusion: romance is so much deeper than flowers and chocolate and fancy dinners. Romance is standing by each other's sides, holding hands, expressing solidarity, together with no matter what. Romance is taking care of each other when there is sickness, it's sitting side by side on the couch drinking a 77 cent drink because that is the choice we made. Could we go out? Yes, but we choose not to. Could he buy me flowers? Yes, but again, in reality, most of the time I would rather the cheap Wal-Mart ones because I get tired of flowers so quickly and then feel incredible guilt at throwing away over-priced roses.

For some people, they want fancy dinners because that is who they are. Big, expensive dates and get-aways spell love and romance to them. And I applaud them.  But for some of us, love and romance are spelled out in the quiet of home, in the sameness of consistency, and in the quiet knowledge that we are there for each other, no matter what.  In the end, I conclude that romance is whatever spells  L-O-V-E and that may be different for each person.