Last Saturday, we had the honor and privilege to watch a couple from our parish wed during our evening Mass. What really made it different was that she is 79 and he is 81. Every person watching had smiles from ear to ear. However, that was not the best part of the evening for me. It happened later in the evening during a small reception.
Amongst the tables was a small opening that turned into the dance floor. The newlyweds took to the floor. Half-way through the dance I noticed our daughter starting to sway to the music. During the next song, my wife and I, along with other couples, joined the couple on the floor. We noticed that our little one also came out to the floor. At first she was dancing with a friend and then her dancing went solo. It was fun watching her flit around on the floor.
My mind started to record all of these events. The song finished and off we went to mingle (yes – I mingled). Our daughter and her friend went over to talk with the person running the music. We could see them laughing and looking at playlists. Every once in a while she bounced back out on to the floor and danced a little. Before I could snap a shot, off she went. Then came the moment that will be with me from now until my memories fade.
I could hear Phillip Phillips’ Home start to play. I knew in an instant that it had been requested. By this time, we were back at our table talking. I saw her go out to the floor and just stand still. Slowly, so slowly, her head and shoulders started moving to the music. Soon her whole body was just moving in time with the song. Her eyes were closed. At first I thought she was out there to gain attention, and, for all I know, that may have been the original thought. But the music took over.
Then her right leg slowly circled out and around; her toe dragging throughout the movement. Her left arm slowly came up and over her head and then the whole body twirled around – eyes closed the entire time. Her head dropped and tilted to the side. Her eyes opened and searched upwards. She progressed into a mixture of ballet and jazz. She was lost inside her own world. I watched and was amazed at what I was seeing in front of me.
My Daddy pride started to well up inside. I broke my gaze for a moment so that I could get rid of that dust in my eyes. That was when I realized that I was not the only one taking in this dance. So many of the eyes around the room were on this solo dance taking place.
The room watched this normally bouncy, talkative, energetic 8-year-old sink into her soul and let the music take hold. She stood in the middle of the floor. Her hair was done up in a bun and she wore a beautiful peach-colored dress that rose just slightly with every twirl. Her movements provided so much emotion as she forgot about the world and allowed one of her favorite songs to wash over her.
I wanted to capture this moment for eternity. I grabbed my phone and hit video and record. I was so taken by what I was watching that I never noticed until the end that I never really started recording. I was so disappointed in multiple ways as the song ended. Our little dancer, reminded me of a figurine on a music box, came back into reality. I think she noticed the eyes as she finished for she let out a little smile and then her eyes quickly went to the ground as she walked off the floor. I was also saddened that I did not get this on tape.
Throughout the week, I came to realize that while I did not get it to share with the family, I did take it in with my mind. Many times during the week when things get rushed and busy, pictures of her dance would come back to me. While listening to the radio together in the morning and this song comes on, I flash back to her dance. I hope and pray that when I start losing different memories that this is the last one to go. I hope if I ever forget, I come back and read this again.
Often when I write, I write about lessons I learned. I think the lesson I learned today is that not everything needs to be filmed. Sometimes you just need to not worry about recording and be in the moment. All too often when at a school event all you see is iPads filming and parents taking in the events through their screens. That evening the event called out to me so much that I never looked at it. I watched our daughter. She spoke volumes without saying a word. She gave those in the room a special present without knowing that she was giving a gift. It makes me hopeful that more of these moments come when she forgets about the world and let her inner beauty come out. I will just have to carry a handkerchief more often.
I hope that each of you get these moments too. Thanks for meandering with me tonight.