There aren’t many singing valentines being delivered these days. I miss our local quartet and especially the song they would be singing at this time of year:

“Heart of my heart, I love that melody

Heart of my heart brings back a memory

When we were kids on the corner of the square

We were rough and ready guys

But oh, how we could harmonize … heart of my heart…”

I’ve sung that since I was a kid, and was surprised that I still remember the words. When I started singing it to myself today, I could almost hear the harmonized parts in my head. And it got me thinking back to camp and scouts and school when we sang those group songs.

Then school triggered my memory back to the first Valentine’s Day that I recall, and how exciting it was. My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Macki, was a gem. In January, she clad our classroom in snowmen, snowflakes and sleds. When we arrived on the first school day in February, she had transformed Room 3 into heart heaven. Pink and red valentine hearts splashed the walls, the windows, and even filled our heart-themed lessons. A large hand-decorated red box stood on the corner table. During the week leading up to the big day, we gradually added our valentines first thing each morning into the big slot on top of the box. I remember hoping that I would get as many valentines as there were children in the class. We all received one from Mrs. Macki.

The card exchange party was always held at the end of the school day. By the time we’d devoured the pink cupcakes and punch, there wasn’t much room for candy hearts with the flirty little sayings, and the red-hot cinnamon hearts that turned our tongues bright red.

We took the candy home in fluted paper cups, the better to ruin our dinner with at 5 o’clock. I loved it all – making and addressing the valentines and the warm feelings that went with it.

Back then Valentine’s Day was fun. Then even more so, when I was a teenager with first crushes and dates, and into my 20s – being young and in love.

It does seem that Valentine’s Day is more for kids and young romantics. Although, Dear Richard is really good at remembering the card, and either dinner out or flowers. If the youthful excitements of Feb. 14 have passed, the comfortable warmth of caring and sharing makes for happy smiles.

Singing through “Heart of My Heart” led me into more memories of heart songs.

Most holidays have their own sets of appropriate music.Valentine’s Day just uses all the love songs ever written. Love is definitely the most popular subject in song, but the heart takes a pretty bad beating in the process. I started thinking back through all the “heart” songs I know, and they are mostly broken!

Tony Bennett’s “Cold, Cold Heart.” “Don’t go Breaking My Heart,” by Elton John. “Heartbreak Hotel,” by Elvis. Hank Williams’ “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benatar. The list is HUGE and pretty dismal. As Ray Price sang, it’s “Heartaches by the Number.”

It wasn’t until I remembered Old Blue Eyes singing “Young at Heart” that I realized not ALL hearts get broken in our popular music:

“Fairy tales can come true

It can happen to you

If you’re young at heart

For it’s hard, you will find

To be narrow of mind

And be young at heart ….”

The lyrics were written in the 1960s by Carolyn Leigh, a New Yorker who led a rough life. She obviously didn’t let it get to her.

More than any other song out there, “Young at Heart” speaks to me clearly about still enjoying Valentine’s Day – and every day. I highly recommend asking Alexa to whistle up the old standard for you. Or better yet, if your heart can take it, Google “Young at Heart Jimmy Durante 1969.” You just might not make it out with dry eyes. It’s a grabber – thought-provoking, uplifting, and perfectly delightful.

Although Valentine’s Day isn’t the thrill-a-minute celebration it once was, it’s a worthwhile reminder to warm our hearts and open them to the possibilities all around us.

It’s obvious that I think music is the language of the day.

In that gorgeous song from “Titanic,” Celine Dion says it all for me: “My heart will go on. I believe that the heart will go on… .”

Yep, it’s a schmaltzy holiday. But it’s still fun … pass the chocolates.

Marcy O’Brien lives in Warren, Pa with her husband, Richard, and Finian, their heartthrob Maine Coon. Marcy can be reached at Moby.32@hotmail.com.