Dance!

 Music is a language evoking emotions that might seem inexplicable using merely the spoken word.  We want to sing to it, dance to it, sometimes cry to it, and even find common ground in the stories told by is lyrics.

While my children recently celebrated their 7th anniversary, my memories escorted me back to the months before they were married:

"I decided on the song for our 'mother/son' dance!", my oldest child informed me.

"What song?", I queried.

"Guess!"

Immediately, I knew the answer:

"'I Hope You Dance'!", I exclaimed confidently.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DmBSGlXqC4Q

Once again, a tune from my country roots was making its way into memorable moments in our lives.  I loved this song from the first time I heard it, my eyes overflowing with tears because Lee Ann Womack was singing my feelings in her song. She understood!  This tune was awarded a prominent spot in my son's Bar Mitzvah video montage 14 years prior to having the dance floor to ourselves after he exchanged vows with his wife, and was clearly a melody that had lived in both of our hearts this whole time.

"I Hope You Dance" made another appearance in our lives via the message he wrote in the scrapbook I received for my special birthday.  My son is a "thinker", stubbornly independent,  a giver of himself, and an eloquent writer. 

His page in my memory book utilized some of the lyrics to this beautiful song to illustrate significant moments between him and me, that have stood out above the others, as he gave examples during his life that coincided with the words: 

"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder."  (First line of the song)

He then recounted this story:

"As my brother and I walked home from school one day, you (meaning me) said, 'You'll never believe who's painting our house!'  It was a man by the name of 'Russell'. But you quickly figured out his 'real identity' (I had made this part up) and looped us in.  'Russell' was really none other than Mark McGwire!  (No kidding - the guy was a dead-ringer for the St. Louis slugger!) We slyly followed him around and watched as his manual labor actually doubled as his baseball training.  We peeked in his truck where we determined that his bag of 'paint supplies' was actually hiding baseballs, gloves, and bats.  You filled our imaginations and turned an otherwise dull, minor inconvenience, into a lifelong memory."

I had completely forgotten about Russell the Painter!  While he was a doppelganger for the Cardinals' one-time home run king, he hailed from Australia, and had the accent to prove it.

When my boys inquired as to why "Mark McGwire" was suddenly using an Australian dialect, I explained:

"That's just part of his ploy to throw people off so that he can enter homes, not be recognized, and do his 'side' job as a painter In the off season." 

"You get your fill to eat but always keep your hunger."

"How was he going to relate this line to his childhood recollections?", I wondered.

So I continued reading his contribution to my scrapbook:

"Chocolate milk every morning with breakfast.  Ok, that's not a specific memory.  And it might be a little too literal of an interpretation.  While I was thankful for every cup, I have grown to appreciate your effort even more over time.  The dedication and love involved in doing that every day is something only you would undertake.  And as you always say, 'A day without chocolate milk is like a day without sunshine.'  You provided both every day."

Now that he is grown, and begins his own child's Saturdays with that same "cup of happiness", he knows, first hand that the chocolate is secondary to the love he pours into it.

"Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens."

My son recalled through his writing:

"I 'chose to leave' my job and felt kicked on the way out. I crashed one of your Monday lunches at McAllister's with Papa.  Over baked potatoes, you adamantly instilled upon me that no one was allowed to tell me my worth.  There have been many other doors that have opened and closed since then - some for better and others not so much.  But through it all, I have held on to your words and used them as a guiding principle."

I remember that day, as he walked into the restaurant with the posture of a man who felt defeated.  My job wasn't to fix the situation, but rather to equip him with belief in himself so that he could walk back out standing tall and face the world with enough grit and determination to follow his dreams.

When I think about how "I Hope You Dance" resonated with me since the time of its release in the year 2000, it makes sense, now, that this song has woven itself into the many milestones along my path.  

Sometimes, we just know things.  I felt certain that I would never tire of listening to its messages, and hoped that I would be able to convey them to my children. I have always tried to emphasize the idea that we have the option of taking a back seat to life and watching it happen to us, or being active participants in the ups, downs, twists, turns, and surprises, learn to handle them with grace, appreciate the wonder and magic in the world, and, ultimately, enjoy the ride.

So...to my children and now, also to my grandcookies:

"...May you never take one single breath for granted....

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean...

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,

I hope you dance...."

The world is yours.  Take it all in.  Embrace it.  Honor yourselves in the process. 

And always be willing to.... 

Dance.

© Cre8ive Writes, LLC  2023