As I sat down to write tonight's post, a friend called to wish me Happy Valentine's Day. Talking to him seemed eminently more important than writing an elaborate post. And so we talked for almost an hour.

Is this not what Valentine's Day is for? Being present for people we love: writing a story, making dinner, chatting on the phone?

When my friend called, I was reading love poems. The one that stood out to me was "When I Heard at the Close of the Day" by Walt Whitman. It describes what a person spends their day doing while waiting for their lover to return. When their dear lover is on their way, "O then I was happy, / O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well." And when, at last, they are united, the writer expresses their happiness, saying, "For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night."

Not everyone has a lover to sleep with under the same cover. But that doesn't mean Valentine's Day is not for them. The occasion is for everyone who loves, who gives, who shares. As Erich Fromm said, "The joy of loving is the gift of giving oneself."