Knowing Mom’s penchant for little things that were sentimental and greeting cards for all occasions, I decided that particular year I would send her a larger than life Valentine; actually, a door hanger for the folks’ front door.
I was taking a craft class. This was going to be my big treat to myself at this time. Though I didn’t care too much for sewing, I figured I could still pick up some basics. I had always loved fabrics and envied the women who could spend hours at the sewing machine, fashioning something pretty for the home. My perfectionist tendency had taken any possible enjoyment away years ago, so I rarely sat down at my Singer, knowing full well that I didn’t have the “laissez faire” attitude to just sew and not want to rip out each imperfect seam.
I purchased a yard of two Valentine shapes meant to be used for one heart-shaped pillow. The design was similar to Pennsylvania Dutch, with red/pink tulips emblazoned on the heart. Being the close-to-the-ribs frog I could be, I’d stretch the two pillow fronts into two heart hangings by using cardboard backing, some stuffing, lace trim and a stapler. AHA! Cheaper by the pair; and within my household budget! So far, so good…
I worked on the Valentine Door hanger and, surprisingly, even the teacher thought it was rather clever! I had completely circumvented the requisite sewing by using glue and staples; but even she had to admit the effect was overall holiday festive and perfectly suitable for a front porch door hanger. I managed to finish the first one in time to mail down the completed heart for Mom’s enjoyment well before Valentine’s Day!
I could hardly wait until I would get Mom’s call. In the meantime, I worked on my own, completing the lace trimming and hanging it up on our front door. Success! I could see it fairly clearly from across the street. Mom is going to love this, I thought! Imagine our both having matching Valentines on our front doors, emitting the welcoming love and hospitality that was so a part of our nature! How neat was that! Like my mother, I could get excited over little things.
Mine had been hanging up and in clear view of the neighbors who drove up our cul-de-sac for a few days before I received Mom’s thank you phone call. Funny, but she was laughing as she tried to explain what had occurred the first day she hung it on the age-old nail above the glass window of the old door on Rubberneck.
What is so funny???
Mom tried to be subtle, but there was a slight problem.
Didn’t the heart look cute? Had it arrived safely? Was it OK?
Mom then contained her laughter and explained: Daddy had driven up the driveway, walked up the steps, and seeing the oversize Heart in all its pink and red glory, had immediately determined that it looked like a target and would attract too much attention to our front porch, so he immediately insisted that she remove it!
Looked like a WHAT?
Apparently, Daddy didn’t want our home to attract any type of attention! The sixties may have been over with, but the seventies were just as screwy in his mind; and this was the Bay Area, not the North Valley.
The Valentine message that the hanging was to impart for the upcoming holiday was completely lost on my father. Like this was a big surprise; I had watched this man over the years, one of many who waited until the last minute to buy “the wife” a Valentine. He was always shopping late, when the selection was picked over and the dregs standing in the allotted card section were all that was left. He was really very lucky Mom hadn’t hit him in the head with her large cast iron fry pan the year he came home with a Mahogany Valentine to My Wife that was meant for women with more melatonin…
Like I said, Daddy wasn’t exactly tuned in to the Hallmark thing. But I was irate! Certainly, the times were very different from the original Rubberneck years. But a homemade Valentine as a target? Yes, I’d been away from the Bay area for a few years, but give me a break!!! Just who was Daddy listening to these days besides a few talk radio hosts and the local boulevard merchants?
Mom and I could not stop laughing at this current impasse. No matter how we tried to see Daddy’s concern for the social behavioral changes that were occurring in the old neighborhood, neither of us could meet him halfway! Even with the most creative, out of the box thinking, I could not reeducate myself that my hand-made Valentine would be subjecting the family home to a dangerous encounter from a sniper or mugger or whomever Daddy feared might impede the relative safety of the old guard still living on the block.
How he had made the jump from the occasional stolen hubcaps or robbery of the corner liquor store to a current rash of cruising criminals looking for marked front doors with Valentine Hearts in the porch entry was beyond my comprehension!
I went down to visit over the years and, when the occasion was timely, I’d dig out the heart-shaped door décor from the bedroom closet, and then personally hang it on the front door.
Daddy didn’t like it, but he was outnumbered by the women of the house – even those of us who lived one hundred eighty miles away were now “three times seven”; we knew now to exercise our vote when necessary…