My precious girl,
Yesterday, when you got up at the potluck and did pirouettes, jetes and chasses, I remembered the days when I danced freely. I loved the way stuck your tongue out like Micheal Jordan when you were concentrating on a move. I used to do that too. I would dance for the joy of movement like you do. We don’t need music just a thought in our head and a feeling in our hearts.
Having RA has been life altering. I rarely dance or move. I’m always afraid of the pain or sprain I could cause. It’s simply fear. Fear of the unknown because this challenge has defeated me a lot more than I intended to let it.
But after seeing you, when the studio owner insisted we dance. I danced freely. One of your dance teachers told me just go down as far as you can when we had to go on one knee. I know she’s seen me with a cane and was cognizant I had limits. But, her comment made me rally. I got down on that knee that nearly buckled. And I did every move to the best of my ability. I am so rusty at being choreographed. I’m really rusty on doing hip hop moves. Can you believe he made us old folks hop up and down?! But we did it. It was so much fun. I was dancing again for pure joy. It made me remember how much I love it.
Thank you baby girl for leading me back to my true love of dance. I am so proud of you! Not because you’re the most beautiful ballerina I ever did see, but because you love it. You’re not doing it for me. And yes, your ballet teacher is hard. I never thought he’d get all the parents together enough to do a 1 minute high intensity dance so quickly but he demands and gets it done. You’ll love him someday.