Mitzi Sampson was quoted in an article on Valentine’s Days past as saying that today’s receiver doesn’t want “frills or grand proclamations, but an intimate knowledge of the receiver, and the simple recognition that says I know you, I see you, I choose you.”

That was the end of the article; the last part of the last paragraph. But I was left with the sense that I needed to get to know Ms. Sampson better.  I felt real power in those words and, as I thought about them, it seemed to me that not only were the words right (know/see/choose), but also that the order was right.

Today, I would like to consider what they might mean if they were considered in order, so that the first prepares the way for the second and the second for the third.  All three of these, Sampson says, are aimed at “an intimate knowledge of the receiver,” but the first is know: I know you.

Bette and I make a real thing out of Valentine’s Day.  We met shortly before Valentine’s Day twenty years ago and my first attempt to honor the Day with her was a memorable success.  In that case, I took some risks with her (more later), since I had just met her and she took some risks with me in the way she responded.  And that is what we have done since.  I present her with several days of cards, leading up to Valentine’s Day and it turns out that she is one of the best receivers of cards I have ever seen.  She seems to see the meaning I am trying for and to respond graciously to that even if the card itself and/or the message within the card are flawed.

That may be why it made such sense to me that the first meaning of a card is, “I know you.”  The card ought to elicit the unique connection between us, not just say nice things.  This year I led off with a very unspecial card where the message was “I’m a lucky duck to know you.”  Not much, surely.  But I went to the University of Oregon and am therefore a Duck and Bette’s family is strongly oriented to Oregon State University and therefore not Ducks. [1]  I pasted a U of O logo on the back of the “lucky duck” in the picture, just to say, “I know who you are.”

I take “see you” as a matter of attention.  It means that I pay attention because what you say and what you mean are important to me.  When I walk into a room, I find out where you are because it is something I want to know.  I may or may not come to be with you–particularly if it is a large crowded room–but I want to know.  Sometimes a knowing glance across that room, entirely unseen by others, does that job.  It is silent and powerful connection.

That is how I understand “I see you;” if that is what it means to me, then it clearly presumes “I know you.”  One of the cards was supposed to be a sort of Happy Retirement card, but the picture on the face of the card was a clock showing 6:00 a.m. with the alarm setting on OFF.  Bette didn’t follow the retirement idea because she ordinarily gets up at 6:00.  That is when her alarm goes off.  And by then, the coffee is ready and her cup is warmed, ready for her.  

The idea of the 6:00 picture was to celebrate those very early morning times when she knows her coffee is ready because her husband knows who he is married to.  “See you” refers, in this card to the morning dance, where Bette finds the coffee and then finds me and raises the cup as a brief toast as she mouths, “Thank you.”  She knows that she has been seen.

Finally, although choosing her is very nearly implicit in knowing and seeing, you really want it to be explicit on Valentine’s Day and if you have been married for awhile, you know that “choosing” is not something you once did.  It is something you do over and over.  And again the other half of the gesture is crucial.  Bette needs to be willing to be chosen over and over and she shows that with all the class she showed at that first Valentines day when I gave her four flours (spelt, rye, wheat, and white) [2]. When I left, she said, “Thank you for the flowers” and she said it with the manner and in the voice of a woman who had just been given a dozen perfect roses.

So choosing and being chosen have great power when they are done in order. For the last card of the series, I gave her a very mild-looking card that said “I love you more than books.”  It instantly melted the heart of my librarian wife because she knew what it meant.

The guy who introduced me to Bette said that she was a librarian and that she was a really cute redhead and that I ought to check her out.  I don’t think he heard the metaphor but the idea of checking out a librarian was pure gold to me and I put some of that gold into the final card because I wanted her to know that I continue to choose her.

I am not sure that I have made the case that knowing and seeing and choosing are a time-ordered series, but that is still how they feel to me and I will remember them with pleasure on the next Valentine’s Day.

[1]. They are Beavers, but they are decisively NOT Ducks.

[2]. I’m a baker.  I told her I didn’t know what her favorite flours were so I brought them all.