We had a call a few weeks ago from the guy who has been the special, special boyfriend of our oldest daughter. We've known him since grade school. They learned to line dance with their Texas classmates during Go Texas Days and went through confirmation classes together. I think he was part of a crew that (secretly) decorated our house with toilet paper during a fifth grade girls' slumber party. He's been around so long he's almost one of our own, it seems. His mother and I served on the PTA and she was on the board with me of the dance cotillion classes.
He asked for our daughter's hand in marriage and asked us to give our blessings. We did. He has been so respectful of our daughter and of us; he has had our blessings for a long, long time. Little sister, who NEVER keeps a secret, overheard (it is very hard not to be overheard in our little bird perch place). We knew how and when he was to propose. He asked us to be there, along with his family. With his mother's help, he orchestrated the most perfect proposal. My eyes weren't the only ones tearing up.
Our daughter had no idea. Little sister and brother kept the secret.
It was such a romantic, perfect, auspicious day. The sun was streaming through the trees, making the day sparkle. The air was crisp and fresh after the rains of Thanksgiving. The love and hope was touchable, tangible and there, for all of us who love them, to share.