There is budding romance in my house.
I've hesitated to write about it, since I feel like it's sort of not my story to tell.
But I watch.
And I have observations that I know can be best processed with the written word... it's always a great way for me to work out my thoughts.
And so I write. Delicately and carefully, out of respect.
But I write. I guess by now they know that I write about them. So it should come as no surprise.
What surprises me most as I witness the unfolding of the affair, is how much joy it brings me.
The smile that spreads across her face at every text... her shyly divulging his little whispered sweet nothings to me... the grin he cannot contain when he sees her.
I had no idea how sweet it would be to behold.
I was blessed to have a rare and lovely first boyfriend whose affections were respectful and sweet... he was a boy who made it clear I was his favorite by doting on me in innocent and proper ways that made me feel both treasured and endeared. When it ended, it ended amicably, and to this day I have fond thoughts of him and the really important role he played in teaching me about love and romance and holding out for the right boy.
Now, I have been given the honor of seeing her experience a very similar first relationship. I am being entrusted with her sweet stories of their unfolding affections... which I will treasure for always and never take for granted.
When I discovered the baby I carried almost 17 years ago was a girl, I had one terrible night of worry, knowing how much more delicate and dangerous raising a girl can be... and none of those scary premonitions have come true. Instead, I am blown away by the privilege of knowing an amazing young woman.
And now I have the chance to know a pretty amazing young man.
Parenting is often described as the hardest job in the world.
But this is one of the easiest and most delightful things I've ever gotten to do.