For most of us, the Fourth of July is a celebration of America and of freedom. I love to re-hear the tales of heroism of the men who fought for our freedom. The tv flashes images of our flag and the men and women of our country's history. It means all of that for me as well with an added anniversary of my first kiss.
It was 19 years ago this 4th that my husband gave me my first kiss. Exactly one month before my sweet sixteen. My husband is a great kisser but there are two that I remember the most, our wedding kiss and that first one. We had just viewed a firework show in downtown Houston but that kiss set off a whole other round of fireworks for me. I thought it was such a romantic moment. The actual story is full of humor and young love. I think I've blogged on it before...
This year I have not been so much reminiscing about that kiss as the moments that lead to it.
One day my mom's car was not working and so she had asked Aaron if he could pick my sister and I up from piano lessons. Perhaps it was more than the boy scout in him that sent him rushing to our aide... He held my hand for the first time on our ride home!
I used to babysit for a couple that lived behind our house. Aaron had gone to my house but my brother and I were not home. My parents told him where I was. I was watching tv or reading on the couch in the living room (I can't really remember the details) but I was startled when there came a knock at the back door. It was Aaron! He had hopped the fence to come and see me. He did not stay long. I think my parents called after he had only been there long enough for me to ask what he was doing there. I watched him hop the fence back to my house, nervous and thrilled that he came by to see me. Just me! Not my brother. Hm to him!
On another occasion he drove me home from school. It was a Friday. When he turned on to my street he asked, "Are you doing anything this weekend?"
I couldn't believe it! He was about to ask me out!
"Nope. Nothing," I answered as nonchalantly as possible.
He said nothing.
"How about you? Do you have plans?" I asked, trying to help him along.
"Nope. Might do something with your brother Saturday."
I decided that if he ever asked me again for my weekend plans I would tell him that I planned to hang out with him. If I could be so bold.
And then, as he was walking out the door with my brother to join some other friends downtown for the Fourth of July fireworks display, he invited me to go along. I didn't ask my parents. I looked to my brother. He never permitted me to run with his circle of friends.
"Ugh! You can come."
The rest is history.