Is there anything more important in this world than love? I think not. I believe love is the greatest motivating force known to mankind. It’s what makes us do crazy, generous, and sometimes downright baffling things. It’s why our husbands attempt to enjoy shopping, and why we women nod along, feigning deep interest, while they explain at great length why the newly installed water heater isn’t heating water or why the car has developed that mysterious pinging sound. It’s the reason I’m presently wearing a sweater adorned with a parade of polar bears, not because I love the design, but because he loves polar bears, and I knew it would make him smile.

Love is what regularly motivates me to climb into the car and drive to Philadelphia or Mechanicsburg just to spend a few precious hours with my children and grandchildren. Every mile is worth it (even enduring the perpetually congested Schuylkill) when a little one comes running, shouting “Nana!” with arms wide open, or a baby snuggles close and flashes that irresistible smile. It’s why I now know the whimsical book “Down By The Cool Of The Pool” about farmyard animals dancing and splashing at a waterhole by heart, and why I recently ordered two additional copies after one went missing, causing great despair in the lives of my grands.

Love is a group of friends who conspired behind my back to surprise me on my 60th birthday with a Princess Bride-themed movie party, because they know I have more than a slight obsession. They planned it down to the smallest details, making me feel seen, remembered, and deeply loved.

Love is my faithful coffee club gathering every weekday morning to solve the problems of the world over a hot cup of coffee. Well, maybe not all the problems of the world, or even all those of our Juniata River Valley, but we have a lot of fun trying. We’re an eclectic bunch: chamber and visitors bureau staff, a retired English teacher who keeps us mindful of our language, a retired engineer who steers the conversation toward the analytical, a free-spirited musician who brings color and creativity to our mornings, and a beautiful soul who treats us all like her children, offering sage advice and quiet comfort. It’s a daily reminder that love often looks like shared laughter, differing perspectives, and the simple joy of showing up for one another.

Love is defending our community, standing up for it when uninformed online critics hide behind their keyboards, tearing others down with damaging words instead of stepping forward to become part of the solution. It looks like serving on the board of a local nonprofit or spending an afternoon picking up trash along the highway, expecting no accolades in return. It’s the realization that the “someone” who should take on a community project just might be me.

Love is showing up for your children by taking the time to truly listen to their endless chatter, their dreams, and their aspirations because one day (and it comes more quickly than you think), your home will be quiet. Much too quiet. The laundry basket may be empty, but you’ll discover that a piece of your heart is, too.

Love is caregiving. It’s my dad falling from a tree and becoming quadriplegic for the rest of his life, and it’s me stepping in to help care for him, often discovering that caring for a parent does not come with an instruction manual. It’s driving him to rehab and doctor’s appointments, managing wheelchairs and schedules, and learning that showing up mattered more than getting everything right. It’s making sure he and my mom, his devoted caretaker, had everything they needed, and finding ways to keep celebrating holidays, no matter how different they looked.

And love is my dad’s remarkable patience with me in those moments, his willingness to extend grace when I didn’t always get things right. Before he passed, I visited him daily, always leaving him with, “I love you today.” Over time, he began answering, “I’ll love you tomorrow.” After his passing, I had those words tattooed around a red heart, with the words “No regrets” in the center–a daily reminder to live and love fully, leaving nothing left unsaid.

Love is my father carrying a five-gallon bucket of coal up the mountain during hunting season, so his daughter didn’t get cold and then stooping to scrub her floor when she was eight months pregnant with twins and the size of Texas, so that she didn’t have to.

Love is sitting in the veterinarian’s office, hearing that your beloved dog is ill, and crying a river of tears while vowing to never get another because the pain is just too much yet knowing in your heart that someday, you will.

Love isn’t loud or flashy most days. It doesn’t always come in a heart-shaped box, nor is it tied with a bow. More often, it shows up quietly in sweaters chosen for someone else, in miles driven without complaint, in listening when we’re tired, caring for those we love, and in standing up for what matters.

This Valentine’s Day, may we recognize love not just in grand gestures, but in the everyday moments that shape our lives and our communities. Because in the end, love has everything to do with it.

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Rhonda S. Kelley is the executive director at the Juniata River Valley Chamber of Commerce.