More on Valentine's Day 17 years ago …
Baby cheeks were long gone, replaced by a handsome young profile and just one dimple when he smiled. His glasses accentuated his vibrant eyes instead of masking them. His eyes were like mine, bright green in the morning and a darker shade as the day wore on. Just by looking at the color chart in our eyes, his father could always tell when we were tired.
Our son had curly eyelashes that his grandmothers envied. His pudgy little nose was a duplicate of mine, but the mouth was his father’s, most often racing in the open gear. Except this night.
His voice was low and quiet, rid of the argumentative tone from the day before, but one I knew I’d hear again. His words were carefully chosen and honest. It was amazing what charm one little lady had over one little man, my little boy.
I studied this girl who had spellbound him. She was quite pretty, dark eyes, a smooth thin face, three inches taller than her escort, and she was a year older.
Yes, my little boy had fallen for an older woman. Notes from her were taped to his bedroom door. Her picture had a prominent spot in a small frame next to his bed. But if you called her his girlfriend, he quickly corrected you.
“She’s a friend who’s a girl.”
Some of the kids teased him mercilessly about his “girlfriend.” It was painful, but I told him to ignore them. If she was just a friend, fine, then be friends and ignore what those other knuckleheads have to say. Of course, that’s easier for a mother to say 23 years after she had been that age …
More tomorrow …
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