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Valentine’s Day originated as a Christian feast day honoring a martyr named Valentine, but its deeper significance lies not in its ancient roots
—whether in third-century Rome where a priest named Valentine defied Emperor Claudius II’s ban on marriage or in the pagan festival of Lupercalia—
but in what it teaches us about love, commitment, and family.
As a father, a husband, and someone who understands the fragility of life, I’ve come to see Valentine’s Day not just as February 14th marked on a calendar, but as an opportunity to model for my son what lasting love looks like.
Growing Up with Love as My Foundation
I grew up seeing pictures of my mom and dad enjoying each other.
Dancing.
Laughing.
Singing.
Participating in parties where closeness was encouraged.
They weren’t just married—they were in love, genuinely and deeply. I watched them through my childhood and teenage years, seeing how they maintained that connection, that spark, that commitment to each other.
My mom and dad were in love with each other until my mom passed away from cancer.
I would love to have the same experience—to love someone until one of you dies, not because one leaves.
That image of enduring love is what I carry with me, what I want to recreate, and what I desperately want to pass on to my son, Lyle.
As a DeMolay, I learned about honor, duty, and the importance of showing appreciation to those who matter most.
But I was never able to give my mom a rose as a token of my love and appreciation for all that she had given me—from life itself to the constant guidance she provided as I progressed from childhood to being a teenager.
She died when I was 18, before I could fully express what she meant to me, before I could show her the kind of love and gratitude she deserved.
That loss taught me something critical: tomorrow is never guaranteed. The roses we plan to give, the words we mean to say, the moments we intend to create—they can’t wait for the “right time” because sometimes that time never comes.
Why Valentine’s Day Matters for Children
Valentine’s Day, which happens every year on February 14, is all about spreading the love, and that’s precisely why I believe it’s essential to introduce this concept to children early.
It’s not about the commercialization or the candy—though there’s nothing wrong with either—it’s about teaching them that love is something worth celebrating, worth expressing, and worth fighting for.
When we teach our children about Valentine’s Day, we’re really teaching them several vital lessons:
The Expression of Affection: Children need to learn that love isn’t just a feeling we keep inside. It’s something we demonstrate through actions, words, and gestures. Whether it’s a handmade card, a bouquet of roses, or simply quality time together, these expressions matter.
Honoring Relationships: Valentine’s Day provides a framework for children to understand that the people we love deserve to be honored and appreciated. It’s a day that says, “The relationships in our lives are important enough to pause and celebrate.”
Creating Family Traditions: When children participate in Valentine’s celebrations with their parents, they’re creating memories and traditions that will shape how they view love and family for the rest of their lives. These become the reference points for what a healthy, loving relationship looks like.
Understanding Commitment: At its core, Valentine’s Day has become a celebration of romance, commitment, and love. When children see their parents celebrating this day together, they’re witnessing what commitment looks like in action.
Our Post-Valentine’s Celebration
This year, my son and I ordered a half dozen roses for his mom on Valentine’s Day.
We wanted to surprise her on February 14th, but because we were trying to be practical about it—timing, budget, and logistics—we had to move our celebration to the day after.
My wife and I then planned a day where we would pick her up from work, have a picnic, and ride our bikes together. It wasn’t going to be fancy or expensive, but it would be ours.
I started the day at 4 AM.
While the house was still quiet and dark, I prepared rice, boiled eggs, luncheon meat, spicy chicken nuggets, and fried eggs, carefully placing everything in a Coleman cooler so it would stay fresh.
I loaded all the bikes into the back of the pickup truck—my wife’s city bike, my yellow trike, and Lyle’s little bike. I prepared Lyle’s diaper bag, snack bag, extra clothes, bottles, everything needed for a long day ahead.
By the time the sun began to rise, we were nearly ready.
We left at 8 AM and arrived an hour later at his mom’s workplace.
We had a nice breakfast together—all three of us in one place, sharing a meal I’d prepared with my own hands. It was satisfying feeding my family, sitting together and starting the day as a solid unit.
Those moments, simple as they are, are what I want Lyle to remember.
After breakfast, I had to make a quick stop at the old house to pick up some items—a UV sterilizer and manual sterilizer, along with some bottles and Haakaa pumps that Margaux intended to lend to my cousin’s wife and another cousin who had also recently given birth.
These small acts of helping family, of supporting each other through life’s transitions, are also part of what I want to teach Lyle about love—that it extends beyond just romantic relationships.
A Visit to Remember
We then left for Davao Memorial and visited Margaux’s mom’s resting place.
Standing there, the three of us together, we prayed.
I asked for guidance that for at least this day, we’d have peace as a family.
There’s something about visiting those who’ve passed that puts everything in perspective. It reminded me of my own mother, of the finite nature of our time together, of why these celebrations and these moments with Lyle and Margaux are so precious.
From there, we ended up visiting my cousin who had a newborn son and stayed there for the entire day. Lyle and his older cousin were out playing with Tonka trucks in the mud, completely absorbed in childhood joy. We let them have a great time the entire afternoon. Watching Lyle play, covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear, I thought about what memories were being formed in that moment.
I Haven’t Been the Ideal Husband for a Long Time…
Here’s the truth: I love my wife so much, but I haven’t been the ideal husband for a long time.
I’m trying my best to make amends, to be better, to be the partner she deserves and the father Lyle needs.
This Valentine’s celebration was part of that effort—not a grand gesture, but a genuine attempt to show up and be present.
And somehow, I still messed up the entire day.
We missed getting our kimchi from Arirang. We at least were able to get a tray of eggs from Choice Mart. We then deposited her stuff and what we had bought, plus the food I had prepared for the picnic, at home before heading out again to bike.
Despite the imperfections—or perhaps because of them—it was still generally a great day. One that I hope Lyle will remember for the rest of his life as a great memory about his mom and dad celebrating Valentine’s Day, trying their best, being together.
When Sadness Creeps In
I wish my sadness didn’t overtake me at the end of the day, which prevented me from unloading my trike and joining my wife and our son to have fun.
Sometimes the weight of trying to be better, of carrying the past, of worrying about the future, becomes too heavy. I sat there, unable to move forward, unable to be fully present in the joy of the moment.
What was surprising though was how Lyle was able to point out to me that I was sad and that I shouldn’t be sad, as we sat at the side of the road.
How do kids feel such emotions?
And how do they know just what to say?
In that moment, my young son was teaching me something about love and presence that I’m still trying to learn. He wasn’t judging me for being sad; he was simply asking me to come back, to be with him and his mom, to choose joy over sorrow.
The Pros and Cons of Teaching Children About Valentine’s Day
| Pros | Cons |
| Emotional Intelligence: Children learn to identify and express emotions, understanding that love is both felt and demonstrated | Commercial Pressure: Kids may focus on gifts and spending rather than genuine affection |
| Family Bonding: Creates opportunities for shared experiences and traditions that strengthen family connections | Exclusion Concerns: Children without valentines or in non-traditional family structures might feel left out |
| Modeling Healthy Relationships: Kids observe what commitment, affection, and partnership look like in practice | Age-Inappropriate Expectations: Very young children might not fully understand romantic love versus familial love |
| Gratitude and Appreciation: Teaches children to actively show appreciation for the people they love | Peer Pressure: School Valentine’s exchanges can create social anxiety about popularity |
| Memory Creation: Provides anchoring moments that shape their understanding of love and family for decades | Oversimplification: May reduce complex relationships to a single day of celebration |
The Lessons We Pass Down
The holiday got its name from a man named Valentine, a Roman priest who helped couples secretly get married when marriage was forbidden.
He chose love over law, commitment over compliance.
In a way, every parent who celebrates Valentine’s Day with their children is making a similar choice—choosing to prioritize love, to make it visible, to say that relationships and family matter more than convenience or routine.
For me, this post-Valentine’s Valentine’s date with my wife and son wasn’t perfect.
The timing was off, I forgot things, we missed getting our kimchi, and my sadness nearly ruined the ending.
But Lyle was there.
He saw his parents trying.
He saw us planning, preparing, coming together.
He saw his father wake up at 4 AM to prepare food.
He saw his parents visit his grandmother’s resting place together.
He saw love—imperfect, struggling, but persistent love.
And maybe that’s the real lesson of Valentine’s Day that I want to pass on to my son: Love isn’t about perfection.
It’s about showing up, trying again, and choosing each other even when things get messy. It’s about a father who lost his mother too soon, trying to ensure his son never forgets the value of expressing his love for his mom while there’s still time.
It’s about roses given a day late, picnics that get rearranged, bikes that don’t all get unloaded, and a little boy who knows exactly what to say when his dad is sad.
That’s the Valentine’s Day I want Lyle to remember—not the one from greeting cards or movies, but the real one, where love persists through imperfection, where families keep trying, and where the simple act of being together, even covered in mud or sitting on the side of a road, is enough.
