Life, death and Valentine's Day -- more readers' stories

For the past weks, Newday has been collecting Valentine's Day stories from readers.  Here are some more.

The happiest of birthdays
I was born on Valentine's Day which makes me an official sweetheart! My mom wanted to name me Valentina, but my father named me Diane after the song "Diane" which was about a blinded soldier returning from the war who could still see his love Diane in his mind.

He told my mom she could name the rest of the children they had. I will be 60 years old this Valentine's Day (how did this happen to me?) I have told my friends for years that I would get a tattoo when I turned 60. Now that it is here, I'm thinking I might just do it! Maybe a small signature heart tattoo.

I love having Valentine's Day for my birthday -- everyone gets flowers and candy on my birthday! People sometimes ask me if I get cheated out of a present, but I never think of it like that.

The only problem is that in the last 20 years or so, it has not been easy to get a reservation for my birthday dinner anywhere since so many people are going out for a special Valentine's Day celebrations.

I love having Valentine's Day for my birthday! It's all about love!
-- Diane Costello, Ridge

A day of sadness
You asked for sad Valentine's Day stories. This may be the saddest. I had to bury my dear husband on a Valentine's Day. I can't believe it is almost 19 years.

I never did like Valentine's Day.  -- Leona Adams, New York City

Love's labor not lost
Twenty-five years ago this Valentine's Day, my daughter, Ashley, was born at 1:44 a.m. after 231/2 hours of grueling, drug-free labor.

Although my due date was Feb. 11, three times during my pregnancy I had a dream that she would be born on Valentine's Day. So when I went into labor the morning of Feb. 13, I was a bit disappointed that my child would wind up with an occasional Friday the 13th birthday.

But as the clock hit midnight on Feb. 14, my doctor came in to tell me that my dream was about to come true -- only it would have to be via a C-section since the baby was in distress and I couldn't deliver her.

All went well and my beautiful baby girl was born. And here's a funny part to the story: for the first five years of her life, Ashley believed that the entire world celebrated Valentine's Day because it was her birthday!  -- Victoria A. Spedale, West Islip

A tale of two Valentines
The following did not happen on Valentine's Day  . . .  but Valentine's Day is whenever love abides.

One beautiful summer Sunday morning in June 1947, our phone rang. I answered it. My sister Bobbe's friend, Doris Seldin, was calling to invite Bobbe to go to the beach. My sister wasn't home, but I said that I would be glad to go.

We arranged to meet on the Avenue O station of the BMT Culver Line at about 11:30 a.m. It was to be the luckiest day of my life.

The train pulled into the station. We had met briefly once and recognized each other. The train took us to Coney Island. We walked to the beach, found a spot of sand among the throng of people, spread out the blanket, sat down and got to know one another.

Soon we began to hum, then sing some of the songs we knew . . . Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, Gershwin and all of the love songs that were popular at the time. The day flew by. At one point, Doris, a physical education major at Brooklyn College suggested that we go for a swim.

I said that I didn't know how to swim -- a fib -- I was actually a pretty good swimmer. She volunteered to teach me and was pleasantly surprised that I was such a good learner and was soon able to keep up with her as she charged into the waves and swam back and forth.

Out of the water and back to singing more love songs. Finally, at about 4 p.m. Doris said we had to leave and get her home for a date that evening.

I tried to convince her to break the date, to no avail. So we packed up and headed for her home while I pleaded with her to cancel her date. I took her to her home and told her that I would wait on her front stoop, hoping she would change her mind.

The good Lord must have been looking down at the hopeful young fellow standing there and took pity on him . . . for in a short while, Doris came out and announced that we could spend the evening together. So we headed out on our first date.

We went to the RKO Kenmore, watched a movie, strolled down the avenue toward Prospect Park . . . (in those days one was not afraid to go in the park at night), found a bench and sat and sang to each other for a while.

On the way home she mentioned that she had a baby-sitting job for Monday night, and I suggested that she ask permission for me to join her for the evening.

On Monday night I drove to the address where Doris was baby-sitting. We sat and talked a while and I asked her to marry me.

She said "YES!"

I pinned my fraternity pin on her. We were married on June 19, 1948 and celebrated our 61st anniversary in 2009 with our four children, 8 grandchildren and loads of friends.

As the song goes, "I'm a lucky guy, she was lucky too. All our dreams of joy seemed to come true. Maybe that's because she loved me . . . maybe that's 'cause I loved her."
-- Edwin J. Kliegman, Massapequa Park