Wednesday, 18 January 2012

The Dance of a lifetime



My dad died just over 18 years ago at this time of year. I realize that qualifies as a lifetime ago.  And rather poetically my son managed to be born on exactly the same day that my father died. We come. We go. (No pun intended.)

And every year at this time I think about my dad and these 2 juxtaposed life-altering experiences. Death. Birth. And what I am struck by this year is another favourite memory of my father…and how he may well have had a part in my deep love of dance. I don't remember where we were when this happened. I am sure it happened on several occasions. I can tell you we were somewhere in the Midwest United States in the late 60’s or early 70’s. 

I CAN remember the sensations and smells so clearly. The swooping feeling. The giddiness and grinning from ear to ear. The movement made my dark auburn curls sway back and forth. And then there was the dusty wooden floor and faint scent of women’s perfume and men’s shoe polish. The thrill and delight and ecstasy of feeling safe, supported, and cherished. My huge giant of a father waltzing me around the slightly dull worn oak dance floor with grace and ease and delight.  And light is what I felt… both a physical weightless quality and a giddyness as well as a kind of unstoppable radiance beaming from my heart.

It's the little things that matter.  And as I remember and still grieve my father, this little memory brings me great joy in the deep dark grey of winter. So always remember dads, cherish your daughters.  Let them stand on your shoes and dance them around the ballroom while you still can. The  grace and beauty of that dance will last her whole life long.

5 comments:

  1. What a wonderful posting - thank you for sharing your memories of your dad and for making me remember a happy memory.
    I used to wait at the garden gate to sit on the handlebars of his bike, for a ride up and down the road, after work every evening.
    My dad passed away almost 3 years ago and it's still so hard but recalling a happy time is a very precious gift.
    Thank you Katheryn:))

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    1. What a lovely image... riding on the handlebars of your dad's bike. Yes indeed... that same kind of holding and security and wind in your hair feeling. Appreciate you sharing this.

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  2. I remeber my mother always packing something sweet like chocolate whenever I went away to school and even just before I went off backpacking as a young man about to spread his wings into the wide world. Thanks for being the catalyst for these thougths.

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    1. Yes. Sweet images on all levels. Thanks.

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