Finding Forty, Day 25: My Dance

Last night, my friend and I talked about love and loss. She is such a great friend, so quick with the truth, no matter how brutal. While it smarts a bit, it's always somehow comforting to know that with her, you always know where she stands and what she believes. You know that when she says you look good, you most likely do and when she says you don't...well, it's back to the drawing board or dressing room.

Another thing about her is that she is an amazing listener with a huge heart. One of my recent blogs brought her to tears (and she isn't a crier) and as she hugged me and held me, she told me how sorry she was for all I've been through.

For some reason, I found myself recounting to her the story of my mom's fight with cancer, so valiant and courageous and then the beauty that punctuated her ending, once she finally made peace with dying.

The impetus to tell her was the parallel I made about S and his recent email and intentions of removing himself from my life. Him being gone is the equivalent of a death for me. Except, unlike with my mom's cancer battle, which she fought for 18 months, when he decided to leave, it was like a car crash that immediately took the life of someone I loved. One day they are there, ever present, always at least a phone call or email away, the next, gone. Well, not totally gone. I suppose he's out there somewhere, living his life, day to day, but I will never know for sure. One of my greatest fears is finding out something has happened to him and it being too late for me to say goodbye, too late to look into those eyes of his that I love so much, too late to touch his weathered face, smell his amazing smell, simply too late...

But, I digress. Losing him hurts, just like losing my mom. It's a pain that never goes away, even if it does dull slowly over time. This morning, I took the boys to visit her grave. I'd forgotten that I'd placed an angel beside it. Forgotten the exact location of it in the little coutry cemetary. While the boys walked amongst the old headstones, I knelt in front of hers and gently skimmed my fingertips across her name. "Mom, I miss you," I quietly choked through my tears. "I so wish you were here to help me, even though I'm not totally sure I'd like to hear what you'd have to say."

She'd be like my friend from Dallas. Neither of them mince words, neither holds back for fear of hurting your feelings. Their gift is their honesty, because they care. I'm not sure how much patience my mom would have for me these days, but I know that she went through upheavals in her relationships, so in that way, I feel like our hearts would be aligned.

One of her favorite songs was "I Hope You Dance" and I'd like to think that that would be the essence of the advice she'd pass along to me, although far less poetic and lyrical...remember, she was a too the point sort of gal.

I think, this past year, I've done exactly what she believed in, what *I* believe in. I've followed my heart and my head, always keeping in the forefront of my mind that my time here is so incredibly finite.

My mom was taken from me at only 58 years of age. I'm 40 now...she only had 18 more years than where I find myself now. Not bad, but truly, not fair and not nearly long enough. I plan to dance. With music, especially music that moves me, I've never been able to sit still for long. I'm compelled to get up, sway, move, be.

Life is my music. I must dance.

Dancing,
K

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
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....I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin',
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance ( rolling us along)
I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance (where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance..
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance ( rolling us along )
I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their youth and wonder )
I hope you dance (where those years have gone)