All You Need is Love

Jess and I were given a Valentine’s Day surprise.

I had all but forgotten/ignored the day, but still was enjoying the peaceful Sunday morning anyway, feeding the puppies, doing a little cleaning and getting water hot for some instant coffee when I heard a noise. Kept listening and it sounded like music playing softly, but clearly. I thought it might have been coming from Jess, but I was fairly sure she was still asleep, plus, it didn’t sound like the kind of music she listens to often. I thought it may be coming from the church, it sounded like calm music. I actually go outside to my gate and look over to the church, not seeing anything, but hearing the music as if it were right around the corner.

I walk back into the house and stop in my tracks at some foreign objects on my desk in the front room. I’m immediately on alert, and even when I figure out it’s an iPod hooked up to speakers that’s playing the music and a thermos next to it, I’m still weary and confused. The music was Frank Sinatra and, at first, it kinda created an atmosphere like in one of those movie scenes were you have a killer on the loose or a silent, tense chase scene in a derelict mansion and there’s the opposite musical atmosphere being played, like “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” during that raid in Castor Troy’s place in Face/Off or that Pavarati opera music being played as Willem Dafoe re-inacts one of the homicide scenes in Boondock Saints – or something like that.

My mind and body unclenches after a few seconds and I perceive the surprise to be a good one, not homicidal one. I look at the thermos and see a Post-It note attached that reads “To two women whom we love very much. Happy Valentines Day.” I laugh out of surprise, relief and disbelief and have to sit down for a sec and collect myself.
The music turns out to be all love songs, and the note had a heart drawn on it, colored in with a red crayon. It was Mike’s handwriting on the note, Mike’s iPod and Mike’s thoughtfulness written all over it. I sat, grinning like a fool for a minute or two, then called Jess to come check it out. We poured ourselves a cup of coffee from the thermos and relaxed in the patio as Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald, Sting, Marvin Gaye and Joni Mitchell play over the speakers.

I, who usually have extreme control over the emotions I express, was hard-pressed to hide my wide grin for the morning and part of the afternoon. It occurred to me how something so simple as coffee and music could mean so much to someone. I suppose because it’s not just coffee and music – it’s letting a person know you are thinking of them, you hold them in high regards, you are willing to take the time to think of something and then to do the something. It’s making something and someone significant for a moment, when for so much of the time, it’s same old same old.

It would be too easy to brush past Valentine’s Day entirely, wouldn’t it? What’s the point, especially without a Valentine, or familial loved ones? But then – Mike made it a point. He forced significance and importance and heightened feelings by his actions – his relatively simple actions, too. I mean, I know he had to make the coffee, maybe he arranged the playlist and then had to orchestrate how he was going to sneak in secretly – but it’s not like it was a big expensive gift or an elaborate breakfast or anything. And it’s not like we were his loves or anything, we’re “just” friends.

But the impact that coffee had on me! It made me feel happy, it made me feel cared for, it made me feel worthy. It made the day special. It brought memories of other surprises I’ve had. I remembered that I like surprises, I remember how I felt each time – special.

And it occurs to me how easy it is to do things like this for people. Surprises, or just thoughtfulness in general. Or perhaps there’d be surprise in being thoughtful. Keeping hold of this feeling, I hope I can try to be more thoughtful with other people and give them the same sort of feeling.

It truly is “The thought that counts.” Thanks Mr. Joe Canada.