As a single gal, I knew that Valentine’s Day could take an emotional toll on me if I wasn’t vigilant. I was also sure that I wouldn’t be receiving any valentines this year. That is until I came home from class to find a bouquet of flowers sitting on my cluttered dresser. I grinned at the pink daisies, dainty baby’s breath, and the single yellow rose arranged artistically with a balloon. No, they weren’t from some secret admirer. They were from my beautiful mother, who had driven all over town (with bronchitis to boot) to find me the perfect flowers. Later that night when I was getting ready for bed, I…