My late husband, Mark Mulford, was buried on February 13, 2002. The next day, Valentine’s Day, I was bombarded with flowers, cards, and a lovely private in-home concert by Dixie High School’s own madrigals. I was still in a state of shock, as Mark’s death was totally unexpected. Yet, I remember feeling so loved by family and friends, assured of Mark’s devotion to me and our four children, but I was largely numbed from the shocking changes that had transpired over the course of one week.

As years went by, I began to understand more fully the sadness associated with being a single adult on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t that I felt ungrateful for the loving relationships of those around me, or that I resented them celebrating their love on Valentine’s Day. I was just more starkly aware of my aloneness in the midst of all the celebrations. Being alone, on Valentine’s Day, feels totally paradoxical at best. For me, especially in the first 1-3 years as a widow, it felt isolating, hopeless, and oh, so very sad. This blog post is centered around the idea that February 14th doesn’t need to be dismal, and my journey in learning this very lesson.

Fast forward to February 14, 2004, two years later, having survived two Valentine celebrations as a young widow, I had learned a few things. First, although I was not actively in a romantic relationship, I could still have a good time with others who were also unattached. Second, my ability to serve others created a lot of happiness for me, both personally and for those whom I served. And finally, my loved ones, in particular my children, could benefit from my modeling
healthy emotional regulation. These three factors have influenced the way I have chosen to observe Valentine’s Day for 18 years now.

Recognizing that there are many single individuals around me, some widows, some divorced, and some never married, but all amazing women, I began organizing Valentine celebrations with these wonderful friends. Sometimes a few of us would meet up for lunch or go to a movie together. Occasionally we would pack a lunch and go for a hike. One particular Valentine’s weekend was especially memorable as five other single ladies joined me at a beautiful cabin near Panguitch Lake, Utah. I remember the late-night conversations, walking and talking in the snow, and tender feelings shared by the firelight. This experience taught me that there are a lot of incredible people aching with loneliness, despite how put-together and smart they may seem. I bonded with many single women during this time in my life. I often wonder, would I have reached out to the singles had I not become single myself? Unfortunately, I’m not so sure. It is in our loss and suffering that we grow and expand. This is how it was for me. If you happen to find yourself alone this February 14, I encourage you to find others in your same situation. Plan an activity together and celebrate your friendship.

Personally, I have found that there is nothing that brings happiness as quickly as service. Countless times during my five years as a widow, I found that by helping others I would cheer up my own heart. There is actually scientific evidence that explains how service activates the same parts of the brain that are stimulated by food and sex. I believe we are divinely hardwired to serve and help others. One activity that brought me a lot of satisfaction and happiness was pruning roses. This was something I enjoyed doing and it was something that created appreciation and joy for friends who had rose gardens! According to Adam Grant this is called “other-ish”, or doing something you enjoy that also simultaneously blesses others. In my widow years, I also began having a “cousins-night” in my home once a month. My siblings and their spouses could bring their children to my home, while they went on dates. I would have a fun time feeding and playing games with my children, nieces and nephews. My time with my own children and their cousins was joyful, while at the same time, my siblings were strengthening their marriages. A clear Win-Win-Win in my book! Another challenge, this Valentine’s Day, if getting together with other people seems more exhausting than helpful, I encourage you to look around you and find an “other-ish” way to serve others.

Back in my undergraduate program, I well remember a beloved professor teaching this, “The greatest predictor of your children’s health is the health of their parents.” I have thought about this phrase often, replacing “health” with marital happiness, financial security, spiritual wisdom, or parenting ability. It took a few years of being a widow before I realized that I was modeling how to do hard things for my children. I was teaching them, by example, how to manage loneliness, fear, exhaustion, and discouragement. Now, don’t get me wrong, it is important to feel what you’re feeling and work through the process of healing. What was a profound thought for me was the fact that my process of healing was, by example, modeling how to do hard things for my kids. This realization really helped me re-channel my grief to times of solitude. It motivated me to look for the good around me, and to have energy for the things that mattered most. As you go through the difficulty of being alone this Valentine’s Day, ask yourself, “How am I modeling loneliness? Disappointment? Anger and frustration?” Particularly as a parent, remember your example will become your child’s future default mode when they find themselves in similar situations.

There certainly are days that are darker than others, and I never want to give you the impression that I have all the answers…because I don’t! Just remember that the sun will shine again and keep moving forward with intention. And, as you face flying solo on February 14th, perhaps you can apply one, two, or even all three suggestions to help you feel more centered, happy, self-respected, and personally satisfied. My best to you, my dear friends.

References

Santi, J. (2015) The Giving Way to Happiness: Stories and Science Behind the Life-Changing Power of Giving. Tarcher Perigee.

Grant, A. (2013) Give and Take. Penguin Books.