Love Is A Dance

I watched my daughter with amusement as she danced and twirled in front of a mirror, a beam of sunlight hitting her directly and lighting up the sparkles on her rainbow skirt. I hid a small smile when she spun too fast and swayed slightly with dizziness before she started whirling around again to music only she could hear.

My smile grew wider as her dance style changed to an endearing mixture of ballet and hip hop. I had never known, never quite grasped how much I could love a person until she was born. She had been screaming at the top of her lungs and all I remember thinking was thank god she was alive and healthy. When they passed her to me she was still crying, but as soon as she was in my arms she fell quiet, nestling against me. She was perfect. Perfect in a way nothing had ever been before. The love I felt for her had been instantaneous.

In the mirror I could see her reflection as she spun and suddenly the years flashed past before my eyes. The surface of the mirror glimmered and I could see her blossom into a young woman, into a mother herself. I could see her as a ballet dancer and as an astronaut. She could accomplish all of them if she tried, there was no doubt in my mind.

An insistent tapping to my leg broke me out of my trance and I looked down to see my daughter holding out her hand.

I raised an eyebrow at her, “Last time you told me I was doing it wrong.”

She shrugged her shoulders and began tugging at my hand, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet impatiently, “My teacher told me its okay to get things wrong.”

I’d have to send her teacher a thank you card, I thought to myself before I stood up and asked, “And what will I be wearing this time m’lady?”

I watched with fondness as she began to babble excitedly — I was hardly aware of what she was saying, just her presence. I could feel myself shining with pride, love fizzing through my veins and when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror I realised I wasn’t the only one. My daughter was radiating joy in rays of golden light that seemed to stem from the wide, jubilant smile stretching across her face. In that moment I truly understood that was all I ever wanted for her. To be happy.

So I donned the rainbow skirt she was shoving in my hands, twin to her own and tugged it on, sparkles and all. Then I began to dance in time with my daughter, taking her hand in mine and hoped with all my heart that there never came a day when we had to stop.

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