This Valentine’s card is a portal to multiple stories. I’ll begin with my own, because it was sent to me and I’ve kept it for something like 45 years. Even then, it was unusual for a card to be handmade, which adds weight to the romantic sentiments that it expressed. It meant so much more than a store-bought Hallmark card. The opening pitch, “The carbon monoxide, smog & pollution have nothing to do with it…”, leads into the closer, “I get all choked up just thinking of you!” What’s not to love?
Like most teenagers, I was hiding insecurity, undergoing changes on which I had no perspective until years later. I wasn’t exactly swamped with romantic interest, so I was primed to hold onto any bit of affirmation that came my way. Spoiler alert: this was the only Valentine’s card I ever received.
I never found out who sent it, having been left with a mystery that had too few clues to solve it. Even the handwriting might not have helped. The charming illustration and varied pens used – felt-tipped pen for the drawing and the fountain pen where it’s addressed to me inside – point to someone I’d enjoy being around.
It remains the perfect romance, untroubled by contact with the real world. In a sense, it’s also a signpost to a road not taken, many miles back, and no longer of consequence.
For a different story, I can turn to this card as a physical representation of major differences between teenaged life in the 80s, versus now. My nephews and my children may have digital evidence of embarrassing shenanigans following them for life, but perhaps without enduring reminders of tender moments.
Modern life is filled with memes, made in seconds using AI, and distributed almost without thought. This card is a version of a meme, except that it was made by a real person, who thought of me while she (he?) was doing it. I get all choked up thinking about that.