On February 14 in many countries around the world candy, flowers, and gifts are exchanged between loved ones in the name of St. Valentine. Couples will dine and many a flower shop will be visited today while some people- as a good friend once put it- will sit back in forced observance of Happy Societal Reminder That I am Single Day; it is during this time that one can truly come to understand the difference between solitude and loneliness.

We all know the story of Valentine’s Day; well, at least we all think we know the story. The truth, as they say, is stranger than fiction so who is the man behind the myth?

The Catholic Church recognizes at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus; all of whom were martyred. One such legend says that Valentine was a third-century priest in Rome. Emperor Claudius II had decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, so he outlawed marriage among the military. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine’s actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death.

The most popular story suggests that Valentine was killed for attempting to help Christians escape Roman imprisonment. Legend has it that the imprisoned Valentine sent the first “valentine” greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl who visited him during his confinement. Before his execution, he wrote her a letter signed: “From, Your Valentine.”

While these stories have a mix of historical accuracy and fictional license, perhaps the truth lies in a common practice of the early Church- usurping longstanding pagan traditions and holidays in an attempt to win over new followers. Hey, it’s worked before. If you can’t convince them, just trick them by placing the St. Valentine’s feast day in the middle of February in an effort to “Christianize” the pagan celebration of Lupercalia, which is celebrated on the ides of February. Lupercalia is a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus. To begin the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the orphaned infants, Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf. The priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. They would then strip the goat’s hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed the touch of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city’s bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage.  The Lupercalia traditions survived until the end of the fifth century when it was outlawed as “un-Christian”by Pope Gelasius. To help ease the transition he declared February 14 to be St. Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t until well into the  Romantic period of the Middle Ages that the day became solely associated with love.

Although the day celebrating love and lovers remains wildly popular (it is the third most commercially-lucrative holiday behind Christmas and Halloween), the confusion over its origins led the Catholic Church itself to drop St. Valentine’s Day from the official calendar of feasts in 1969. It was free to become the commercial behemoth we celebrate today and accountants at Hallmark couldn’t be happier.

So it is that cards will be exchanged, chocolates will be consumed, and flowers will adorn kitchen counters in the name of love. By the way, as a kid nothing said “I love you” as sincerely or better than a prepackaged assortment of “Be My Valentine” cards with Barbie, G.I. Joe, or Optimus Prime on the front. Boy, did I just date myself with that list of characters. Feel free to insert any relevant 2013 cartoon property.

But, I digress…

I was lovingly teased for a comment I made today when I asserted that flowers are a waste of money. Let me clarify my thinking on that.

First of all, why should we need a specific day set aside to remind us via constant commercials and advertisements to love those dearest to us, that love can only be said with roses, chocolates, and diamonds? The greeting card companies and the jewelers convincingly tell us, “Spend this, get that- because love can only be said through the most expensive and debt-raising trinket.” Some will be so shallow that they will gauge a person’s affection solely on the monetary value of the gift received.

Why must we be pressured by society into making a single day special, when we should be doing all of the things we are supposed to do today on every other day around the year. It’s the seemingly random, everyday moments that make being together worthwhile and special- hold a door open; lift up their shirt and hold it close to you; buy flowers or a small gift on a random day just to say, “Hey, I’m thinking about you and I love you;” pick them up from work without a warning or a hint of your destination for a nice romantic dinner at their favorite place; take the dog for a walk in the park and bring along a basket of homemade sandwiches, some wine, and two glasses.

I never thought I would ever agree with, much less use as intellectual support, anything said by a cast member of Jerseylicious, but that’s what happened when Olivia made an appearance on a dating game segment of the Steve Harvey Show this week. She said, “Flowers die. I’d rather have new shoes.”

I have to agree. Sure, a pretty bouquet brings a smile to someone’s face- both the giver and the receiver-, but in three days to a week all that remains of that gift is a wilted mess of twigs and petals half chewed by the family cat. It’s better to give something that will last at least a little while longer; shoes, a pretty necklace for a future night out, something needed, something wanted. Aside from the material there’s the symbolic. After all, that’s what this day should be about- symbolizing and expressing your love, not quantifying or validating it with a price tag. That’s why I think you should ditch the flowers this year and plant a tree. It’s better for the environment, makes your yard look better, and the advantages are as  practical as they are symbolic and beautiful.

Plant a tree and it grows with you along the journey through life; the exact shape, formation, and number of branches of it are all as variable as the effort put into the romantic relationship between the two of you. What results is not only a symbolic relationship between you and the tree, but a symbiotic one as well. Give it water, attention, and love and it will grow and flourish; ignore it and it will wither and decay. I tree loses its leaves and branches over time, just as a relationship has its highs and its lows, its deaths and its births; but the leaves do return, time and again, year after year. It is the perfect symbol of life and love and what better way to experience that love than with a tall tree shading the connected people below it on a warm summer day as they embrace the magic of shared memories. A flower blooms quickly and fades- both physically and emotionally, but a tree stands the test of time as a true marker of your years together. It is the ultimate expression of something that was planted together in love and will remain long after you have left the earth whispering from between its rings, in the touch of its bark, and in its leaves which dance in the wind telling your story to others until the world is no more.