Feelings Never Die

It is Valentine's Day again, and it bought back memories that were over fifty years old.

It bought me back to 1971, and I woke up and I knew my baby was due today. I was big and pregnant, and I felt like I was about to burst wide open. Imagine my surprise when the doctor told my I had a due date of February 14. I couldn't believe it, and since my baby was due today, I felt I could indulge myself a bit. I had gained a lot of weight, and chocolate was on the no-no list, but I had came to the end of this pregnancy, and I hoped it would be okay, after all I would deliver this baby today. So I walked across the street to the grocery story, and bought myself, a peppermint patty, covered in chocolate, my favorite. Me and my Valentine's baby would enjoy it together.

I got a cramp, and I felt something strange, and I went to the bathroom, and sure enough I was bleeding. I called the doctor right away, they didn't say anything, about bleeding at my pre-natal appointments. The doctor said it was okay, and he warned me, if it got to be worse, I was to come to the hospital immediately.

The doctor said by the heartbeat, I was carrying a boy, and I was going to name him after his father, (he actually insisted), and I was going to call him Ricky.

However, for now, it was Valentine's Day, and I was going to endulge in some serious chocolate, and I would remember this day for as long as I lived, the day that I gave birth to my first child.

I would commemorate it, in the following years to come by buying him or her, in case I had any surprises, a choclolate lollypop every year for the rest of the my life. I would still call the child Ricky, even if it was a girl, but I would wait and see, what popped out of me. For now, I would endulge myself with a chocolate lollypop, and I would vow as long as they made them, I would get little Ricky one every Valentine's Day.

The bleeding got steadily worse, and I had to call my husband home from work to take me to the hospital, and they admitted me. They asked me what I had to eat that day, and I was ashamed to tell them "Chocolate". I tried to explain, "It's Valentines Day".

It turns out that I spent the next 36 hours in labor. I had a cervical tear, and the baby was feet down, however, he turned while coming down the birth canal.

Richard L Jacobs Jr, was born on February 16, 1971, and three minutes past noon, 12.03 pm. It turns out that the young man that fought to be born, was a fighter in life, and an exceptional human being. This young man that fought to come in this world, was an honor student throughout his grammer school years, high school years, and college years. He fought on the front line of Desert Storm, and was awarded the medal of valor, and three bronze stars. He never bragged about his medals, and in fact he threw them away. He said they had blood on them. He suffered from PTSD, because of the war and what he saw.

I continued the ritual of a chocolate lollypop every year of Ricky's life, for 44 years, through 3 marriages, and up to his last birthday, which was February 16, 2015.

Richard L Jacobs Jr. was brutally murdered on March 27, 2015 at 11.20 pm.

Richard was 44 years old, and we still called him Ricky right up until he walked off my porch on the fateful day.

The ritual ended with Ricky's death. I couldn't go on with the ritual, after his death.

This is not fiction, this is real life. A ritual that continued for 44 years, what could be more real than that.

We Still Miss Him Every Single Day

Richard L Jacobs Jr, would have been 55 years old February 16, 2026.

(c) Susan Payton 2026