Romance can be humourous, but it can also be addictive, so watch out!
Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard
Happy Valentine’s Day! Another occasion to be nice to our loved ones and friends.
Around six years ago, when I was working days at Tim Horton’s, I had an elderly customer who came in for coffee nearly every day. Quite a nice old guy, a bit of a romantic, and a joker to boot. A week before Valentine’s Day, the old fellow asked me if I would be offended if he brought a little Valentine’s gift for me and the girls that worked on our shift. I was a little surprised, but when he said that he had been working on his project for some time, I agreed that it would be fine.
The next week, he came in with his gifts, which were little knitted red hearts that we could pin to our uniforms. We were so happy to wear the little hearts, and I think we made the elderly gentleman feel quite happy.
As I said, he was quite a joker, which explains why I was reluctant when he offered the gift. I’ll give you an example. One day he told me that when he was younger, he complained to a friend that he didn’t know what to buy his wife for Valentine’s Day. “She already has everything you could think of, and anyway, she works so she can buy herself whatever she likes.”
“Here’s an idea,” said his friend. “Make up your own gift certificate that says, ‘Thirty minutes of great loving any way you want it.’ I guarantee she’ll be enchanted.”
The next day, the friend asked, “Well, did you take my suggestion?”
“Yes,” the fellow replied.
“Did she like it?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “She jumped up, kissed me on the forehead and ran out the door, yelling, ‘See you in 30 minutes!’”
Because he was a romantic and a joker, I don’t really know if he was telling the truth. If you can imagine, I still have my little red heart and I’ll be wearing it again this Valentine’s.
Always a romantic
You’re never too old to fall in love. Take my mother, for instance. It seemed like she was always in love. My dad passed away when she was 47 years old, which was quite young to be a widow. After a decent grieving time of three years, my mother started dating and got married for the second time when she was 58 years old. Alas, she became a widow again when she was 70.
It took her nine years before her pursuit of love and happiness were fulfilled. At 79 years old – with rumours swirling that she was pregnant – she decided to go up the aisle again. I wasn’t too sure if this marriage was going to last, though. One day I was visiting mom and she was a little bit depressed, so I asked her what was wrong. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Normally I’m happy, as you know, but last night I had to slap Gord in the face three times.”
“You’re kidding,” I replied. “At his age, the old fool? Was he trying to get fresh with you or beat you?”
“Oh no,” she said,” I slapped him because I thought he was dead.”
Sure enough, six months later, mother was alone again. This time, however, she divorced the man. I guess she wasn’t pregnant after all. Such a waste.
My mother passed away in her 89th year and an hour before she died she was flirting with her doctor. Now that’s a romantic!
Happy Valentine’s Day and Happy Birthday to Glen (Feb. 19) and my brother Robert Peter (Feb 24).