Our Love Story—Where Were You When The Mountain Blew?

Rob and I enjoyed a nice evening with his mom and step-dad that night and ventured on to have dinner with his dad and step-mom the next evening.

Again, we pulled up in front of a very lovely home in a very nice neighborhood and I was nervous as all get-out. At least these two knew I was a girl, though it would soon become clear they knew little else about me!

We exchanged introductions and pleasantries then we sat down to a delicious dinner that was beautifully laid out on the table.

The conversation was largely revolved around getting to know me and one of the first and most obvious questions was, “Where are you from?”

“I’m from St. Helens, Oregon,” I stated. I always make sure to add the word Oregon so people who know that Mount St. Helens is in Washington don’t assume that I grew up on or near the mountain. It rarely works however. Just the word St. Helens makes people assume that I lived on the mountain.

This of course brought us to the obvious discussion that follows a conversation about growing up in St. Helens. Everyone started talking about their memories of the famous volcanic explosion that sent ash all of the way around the world. Everyone shared their memories, including Rob who was old enough to have a vivid recollection of where he was and who he was with. Then, as it would naturally occur in a conversation such as the one we were having the question turned to me, “Where were you when the mountain blew up?”

“Uh, actually,” I said sitting upright in my chair trying desperately to make myself magically look and sound older than I actually was, “I wasn’t quite born yet. I actually wasn’t born until almost two years later.”

And there you had it. The cat was out of the bag. Not only had Rob brought home a girl, but he had brought home a 19 year-old girl. A teenager. Barely an adult. A freshman in college. A girl so much younger than him that he could vividly remember an event that she was two years shy of witnessing due to the fact that her parents were barely even adults yet. Yep, that was me. Rob’s very, very young girlfriend.

The look on his dad and step-mom’s faces clearly indicated that they were surprised by learning that I was so young. I couldn’t quite tell whether or not it indicated disapproval, or merely surprise. Either way, I wished Rob would have told his family a little more about me so I didn’t have to run around shocking people all of the time!

As we wrapped our conversations and said good-bye for the evening I looked at Rob’s dad. I was amazed at how many similar features they had. It was really weird, I felt like I could have been looking at my boyfriend a couple of decades down the road.

And because I couldn’t help myself I thought about the possibility of growing old with Rob. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s his dad’s age? I thought to myself. I wonder what it’s like to grow old with someone? Some people say love only gets better with time—but I can’t imagine it getting any better than this!

Click on the "Our Love Story" tag at the top of the page to see other love story posts, or to start from the beginning.