â€œYes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance
My favorite Garth Brooks song is The Dance, and the lyrics above touch on the message. The notion of taking risks to live fully appeals to me even though I know it will most likely include pain at some point.
Last weekend my daughter married her love. Although a small wedding, it offered a chance to meet some of my newly minted son-in-laws high school friends. As a whole they are a lively and fun group.
One fellow had been visiting the open-bar, frequently, and thus offered amusing conversations. When he realized I was the brideâ€™s mom, he insisted I dance with him at some point in the evening. Iâ€™m not much of a dancer. Iâ€™m more of a toe-tapper and head-nodder, but he wouldnâ€™t let me beg off. I think this is where the pain of â€œThe Danceâ€ applies.
One of my favorite Chris Isaak songs is Wicked Games. (By now youâ€™re thinking, â€œShe has a lot of favorite songs!â€ Iâ€™m here to say you are right. Viva the favorites!) My daughter and son-in-law included Wicked Games in their dance mix just for me. When I heard it come on I grabbed my husbandâ€™s hand and drug him to the dance floor. We held each other tight and I sang along in his ear. â€œThe world was on fire and no one could save me but you. It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.â€
Within moments we felt the crash of two bodies as they â€œdancedâ€ into us. It was the groomâ€™s friend and the groomâ€™s mom. â€œChange partners!â€ said the young man. My husband frowned and held on to me. â€œNo, really. Itâ€™s time to change partners,â€ said the lubricated fellow. A second later I found myself dwarfed in his arms while my husband two-stepped away with the groomâ€™s mom.
The young man smiled down at me as I gazed into his sternum. Grasping for conversation I said, â€œI hear you have dance genes.â€ (My son-in-law had told me all his friends have crazy dance genes. Emphasis on crazy.)
The young man looked at me in confusion. â€œWhoâ€™s Dan?â€
I tried to control the giggles that were beginning to shake within me. â€œNo, not Danâ€™s jeans. Dance genes.â€
The young man repeated, â€œI donâ€™t have Danâ€™s jeans. I donâ€™t even know who Dan is.â€
By now I had tears in my eyes. This was too funny and he was too far gone to realize it. We swayed to the last refrains of Mr. Isaakâ€™s fine, fine, music. No, I… (This world is only gonna break your heart)
â€œYouâ€™re going to dance with me again, right?â€ said the young man.
â€œUmmm, letâ€™s just see how the evening plays out.â€
Ah yes. Youth vs. experience. Remembering â€œthe danceâ€ is pleasure AND pain was the best part of my day.
Claudia Kittock says
Oh, my friend, my blog today is VERY similar, except for the dancing with a drunk friend part. Maybe that part will happen on Friday!!! Sometimes our synergy is frightening, but oh so wonderful.