Brimming with joy, I was ready to fly.
Today’s story is from Kimberly D. Green Yates.
My first date. It was time. He was a handsome guy, savvier than I. Quite a bit taller. Dark eyes.
Dinner, for certain. Dancing perhaps? Would he open my door? Should I kiss him goodnight? Money was tight, but my parents both said,
“It’s your first date, let’s do it right.”
Mom told me what to expect. How to act like a lady in every respect. Dad took me shopping. Shiny white shoes. A faux fur stole, purse to match. The coolest thing? A gorgeous blue dress.
Dad spotted it first. New in the store. A lustrous blue with a touch of fine lace. It hugged snug to my waist and blossomed below. The skirt jumped high in the wind when I spun on my toes.
The night finally arrived. With polish and grace he opened each door. He cradled my hand as I stepped from the car. He rushed to slide back the chair as we readied to dine. We talked about me, what I so loved, what were my dreams.
Back to my house, the evening concluded so nice. A gentleman’s kiss on a blushing red cheek.
“I’ll remember this night for the rest of my life.”
It’s been 37 years. I still see this wonderful man. He’s taught me finance, business, travel and such.
But what did I learn that mattered most?
How men should treat a woman each day of her life.
I saw it in action that wonderful night. You’ve probably guessed. My first date was my dad. I was just 4.