I feel guilt even before the day comes. All week I rationalize my procrastination. I think back on my love and what inadequate homage I pay to those I love and wallow in my regret. If I want to buy flowers, I remember that I didn't have enough money to keep my bank account from bouncing, or I think back on the times when I did not have funds and said no to the kids when they wanted to go out to eat. I think of all the stupid purchases I did make through the year and wish that I could take them back so I would have enough to get her flowers. Then, I remember I can make flowers, but I have done that so many times there is nothing new about a carved heart, or a paper rose, or a personalized background image for the computer. This year I chose an e-card--I've only done that a dozen times before. Now, it's too late again and I rush to do something. Maybe I'll cook breakfast again? No, I can't think of anything to cook that does not involve sugar, chocolate, flour, milk, or something else she's allergic to and besides, she'll be at work before I get home. I worry about remembering the first day I met her and every important day thereafter. I remember mom and try not to compare you to her. I think of how my gifts compare to those from your parents and children. I try my hand at poetry. I waste time like this writing in a blog. The list of would haves, should haves and could haves is endless.
Just know I love you sweetheart and I'll try not to feel guilty about it.
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