The riches of Valentine's Day linger in my home. The beautiful yellow roses, edged in red, were a gift from my husband. I gave him a box of chocolates, which he graciously shared with me. That's what's called a win-win situation. The flowers have outlasted the candy by several days.

Valentine's Day is strange for me. It's a fun day, a perfect excuse to say "I love you" in the language of those around you, to give a gift, to dress up and go out for a meal -- anything to mark those special relationships in our lives. But the day, for me, is also bittersweet. My first child was born on Valentine's Day. He died when he was 19. That's 25 years ago, but Valentine's Day, in my mind conjures images of decorated cakes with candles, hopefully a gathering of friends, and a few gifts in funny wrapping paper (newspaper comic pages or colorful maps from the National Geographic magazine). It's a reminder that genuine love doesn't disappear when it's object has departed, and that loving enriches me as much as it does the loved one.

On a historical note, I heard from my son that conversation candy hearts, those little heart-shaped confections that are stamped with phrases like "BE MINE", "U R 4 ME", and more recent, "Be my BFF", may become a thing of the past. The NECCO candy company, which dates back to 1847, suddenly went bankrupt and without warning, closed up shop last year. If you have any of them on hand, you might want to keep them to share with future generations. They are a good example of how hard we have to work at communication in our society, and what lengths we go to to make it happen.