I found my Valentine thirty years ago. I'd just seen a face; I can't forget the time or place .
There she was at the Asheville Junction, coffee house. Norman and Nancy Blake were playing that night.
She married me shortly thereafter, and has taken good care of me ever since. I thank God every day for Pat. She has a smile that will light up a room. She has given birth to our three children, and helped me raise them to adulthood. She loves to care for people, including me, and shower them with love. She's at the top of proficiency in her chosen profession of nursing. She loves to take me away to faraway places. She loves for me to rub her back. She loves to talk, and I love the sound of her little New Jersey voice. Her faith in God and her faithfulness to me is an inspiration to everyone we know. She supports me in all that I do. She manages the money so I don't have to. She decorates our home and my life. She puts up with me, even my nose hairs. She saves people's lives in ICU, and she prays with their families and offers them continuous hope along with her professional excellence. She loves her eight siblings and their respective families. She loves to bring people together for festive occasions. She loves sleeping with me every night. We've made love in seven countries. She is feisty, but kind. I love her face. My greatest joy is seeing her happy. She's my God-ordained, special delivery valentine, and I love her.
I understand this isn't on topic for blogging, but it's too late now 'cause you've already read it and I want all the world to know she's mine and I'm hers. Thank you.