Dance Partners

 

The music playing, people bouncing up and down to the beat, a Saranac soda in my hand: the perfect recipe for a good night. But it's missing something. A special ingredient. My dance partner.

My sister and I have been dancing together literally forever. Since she was old enough to walk we would dance. Sure, we took some formal dance lessons like most little girls did. Ballet, tap, jazz. But the kind of dancing I’m talking about doesn’t come from carefully practiced choreography. No, the dancing we do is purely letting the music take us where it will, reading each other’s thoughts, making it look choreographed when it’s not. We could ask the other to dance with a wordless glance, know what the other was going to do before she did it and move accordingly. It's a connection I have with no one else. A connection that goes so far beyond dancing.

I think this is the case with many relationships. Each relationship develops its own connection. Its own special something that makes it different than every other relationship. And every once in a while someone really special comes along and the connection goes even deeper than that. It’s a connection that I very quickly realize cannot be replaced. A connection that is so unique to this one special person that no one can truly fill that void should he or she ever leave.

 I have and have had this connection with a few people over my lifetime. My sister being one of them, someone who, no matter where we are in life, we still have a bond so strong it can never be broken. A friend I met in Roatan being another. Though we’ve gone several years without seeing each other and go weeks and sometimes months without talking, we still have this special connection between us. A love for adventure more than likely the reason. Then there’s a friend from a few years ago. Someone who, whenever something happened in my life, he was the first person I wanted to tell, the only person I wanted to talk to. Someone who, now that he has not been in my life for some time now, I find no one else can truly fill the spot he left behind.

 

So yes, the music is great, the drinks delicious, and the night beautiful, but it needs that one last ingredient. Yes, I will certainly dance with other people other than my sister. I’ve even been blessed with a great group of friends who go out with me now. And yes, some of them even dance with me. I will have that special connection, whether it’s dancing or something else, with many others. Someday I will get married and my husband will dance with me (he better anyway), and we will have a special connection that only we share. But my sister will always be my first dance partner. I will always cherish the times I got to, and get to, dance with her. We will always have a special connection that is ours and ours alone and it will go far beyond dancing. And that, my friends, is something special indeed. That is something to be cherished.

                         

Rest In Peace Dear Bridge

RIP dear Pooh Sticks Bridge. You were the location of many lovely childhood memories. Playing Pooh Sticks, watching as our carefully chosen stick would drift down to the water below. Then running to the other side, careful to watch for cars of course, to see whose stick would make it under you first and appear on the other side. Then there were the times we would kick sand down the drainage hole, mesmerized by listening to it make that lovely sound as all the little grains and small rocks hit the water below. Watching as the rocks plopped into the water, making delicate ripples in the water always moving.

Then there were the times I would use your perfect positioning to attack the tubers below with my water gun. Your height and concrete wall being the perfect spot to hide from any who dare fight back. Then there were photo shoots, walks with friends, and long phone calls. And yes, still some games of Pooh Sticks even as we grew older.

Then, as I grew older still, sadly whether I won at Pooh Sticks or not was the least of my worries. So I took to sitting on your strong concrete wall to watch my reflection, reflecting on life. Watching and listening to the serine wildlife that surrounds you, remembering a time when that very spot was filled with the sound of childish laughter. Not a care in the world but winning at Pooh Sticks. And as I grew I found your wall grew so much shorter, and you were growing older as I was. The green moss growing thick atop the stone and your cracks growing ever longer.

It has been a wonderful 20 years dear bridge, but sadly all things must come to an end eventually. The sweet reminder of my childhood now only found in my mind. Now I must let you go and make room for a new bridge that will be built in your place. But you will live on forever in my heart and mind dear Pooh Sticks Bridge. Perhaps your now crumpled pieces will be given new life; perhaps you will have the chance to hear the sound of children’s laughter yet again. I can only hope…

Baby Steps

There’s this little girl I’ve been spending lots of time with. When I met her she couldn’t walk. She barely crawled. But soon she was eagerly crawling all over the place. Just like any little child, we tried to help her learn to walk. First we would have her walk while holding our fingers. It was slow at first; she was nervous and would only do a little at a time. One day after church we were trying to get her to walk between two of us. She would start, but still hold onto a finger if she could. Then she would reach as far as she could to grab onto the next person. She’d take a couple wobbly steps on her own and fall into the next person’s waiting hands. Sometimes she would be too smart for us and manage to grab a chair in between. Or she’d just give up and sit right down on the floor or start crawling instead.

You know, we don’t just learn how to walk as babies. The learning to walk extends far into our adulthood. If you think about it, we're always learning new things and, more often than not, falling while doing so. But there will always be another goal to try to walk to, another reason to get up and try again. And there will always be someone there to pick us up when we fall. If not our parents, our friends, our family, then God will. And as I watched that adorable little girl fall on the floor again, and this time decided I would just stand by and wait to see what she did, I realized sometimes the ones we love do the same. They don’t always pick us right up off the floor before we even realize we had fallen. If they did, then how could we ever learn how to get back up again? And before I knew it she found a chair within her grasp and pulled herself back up, not needing my assistance but knowing I was standing right there if she did. It made her stronger, just as getting back up on our own when we fall makes us stronger.

She was here a while ago and she not only can walk all on her own now, she picks herself up when she falls and keeps going. But sometimes she’ll still grab for a finger or a pant leg even though she really doesn’t need it.  And that’s ok. We all need a little confidence boost every once in a while. A little support, even if it’s just for doing something we always do.

I'm still learning to walk. Everyday there's something else I'm learning to do or trying to get better at. I find strength in knowing God is there watching me and making me stronger. I know my friends and family will pick me up when I fall. And trust me, I fall more often than not. But I'm getting stronger. And before I know it, I'll be walking. And before you know it you'll be walking too.

Photo by Chloe 2014