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| Boy#1, ca. 1987, also known as yesterday |
"She should never let anyone take her picture," I told him. "Cameras don't do her justice."
Of course I'd seen pictures of her--she was One's upperclass mentor his freshman year, and his editor on the college newspaper--but we'd never met. And while she and Boy#1 have been friends for many years, it's only been a few months since this friendship has deepened into the digital age's proclamation of romance--in March they became Facebook Official. This weekend they spent at the House on the Corner, before leaving for a few days with the girl's parents.
As it turns out she's tiny, with long dark hair and deep dimples; she could not be more of a contrast to our Germanic-looking tribe. But as soon as her feet hit the ground in Small Town, she fit into that tribe. The girl jumped into the give-and-take of the boisterous Boys who were seeing each other for the first time in half a year, nodded in appreciation at my horrible puns, and wandered with us through the local antique stores.
It's an odd position to be in, seeing our sons bring home the young women who might become our first daughters. In some ways it's like bringing our own newborns home from the hospital: Each has a distinct and unique personality, each has some quirks that will make us say "huh." We are pre-programmed to love this child, and we do.
But with girlfriends, we are also acutely aware that we play secondary roles in this story. Even though we are falling in love with this child who loves our child, we are not really part of their life decisions. Relationships, even those that are Facebook Official, confront unexpected turns and being emotionally invested brings with it the potential for pain as well as joy. For a moment, when I first heard we would be meeting their girl, I warned myself to not make that emotional investment.
As I watched my Boy and his girl over the weekend, though, I realized how much I would have missed if I had followed my own stand-offish advice to myself. A mother wants her son to be loved, but she also wants him to be challenged and in this challenge to become an even better man. I saw that, and I smiled.
I deliberated for a whole day about writing this post at all. (Did you miss me yesterday?) After all, this isn't my story to tell, and we don't know the ending to the story yet. No matter the ending, though, we've now seen the beginning, and this week I'm glowing in the aftermath.
The beginning of this story is lovely.
Ahhh. Your response is so sweet. I'm not where you are...yet, but will be before too long. I love how you compare the new girl to bringing home a newborn. Yes. Over here, we daydream what it will be like when we are introduced to each child's future spouse, and we're hoping we like the "babies" that come to our house. Great post!
ReplyDeleteJulie, the best part is meeting a girl who thinks your kid is the most wonderful guy in the world. It's a big lump-in-the-throat moment.
DeleteWe have SEVEN daughters-in-law now, all quite lovely, so this was fun and touching to read. Many of the girls made their first appearance at our very large extended-family Thanksgiving dinner, so it was nervewracking-plus for them to meet so many people at once. Thankfully, they survived this rite of passage and now use it as a benchmark for new adventures, as in, "Well, that makes me nervous, but it's NOTHING like going to ______'s parents house for Thanksgiving dinner the first time!" :)
ReplyDeletePillows, I had never realized how nervous my prospective in-laws were 28 years ago when they met me! I assumed all the nerves were on my side, but there are plenty of jitters to go around. Isn't it nice that we all WANT to like each other?
DeleteYour sons are lucky. That about sums it up.
ReplyDeleteJohnO, you have that completely reversed. Blessed am I.
DeleteLovely post.
ReplyDelete