When my stepfather married my mother, the youngest of us was eleven. They went by themselves to another state to tie the knot. None of us were there. To say he wasn’t much of a parent is a gross understatement. But I remember two things he did that I suppose he thought were man of the house things. Maybe it was something his father did.
One was a Sunday morning ritual. Every Sunday morning, he’d go to the bakery and then stop somewhere to buy a hefty Sunday paper. He bought hard rolls, crumb buns and black and whites at the bakery. If you grew up in New Jersey and you’re my age, you know exactly what those things are. The bakery items may still be familiar to some, but the hefty Sunday paper is a remnant of another time. It was thick with “news”, but the only sections I cared about were the magazine and the comics.
The best thing about this was he left the fat paper and the white box tied up with string on the kitchen table. Then hid out in his room. He was anti-social. He was anti-nice. None of us would’ve joined him at the table for breakfast but it was mutual. It would have been a strain for him to be there with us.
The other thing I recall was he bought my sister and I each a small, cheap, red, heart-shaped box of chocolates every Valentine’s Day. I don’t remember if he left those on the table but I’m sure he didn’t hand them to us. He bought my mother a big fancy heart-shaped box. I remember it because, even though I knew it was cheap, it seemed out of character for him. It was in a way, thoughtful.
My grandfather lost his wife when she was way too young. He was too, of course, and there came a time when he thought to re-marry. On Valentine’s Day, he presented his intended with a small cheap, heart-shaped box of chocolates. Tucked inside was an engagement ring.
He waited for the answer. And he waited. But she didn’t open the box. She threw the cheap, thoughtless token aside in disgust. A measure of his love that fell woefully short in her mind. The ring was eventually discovered and they married.
They still sell cheap, red, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates as Valentine gifts. I sometimes wonder who gives them. And who gets them.