Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Dancing at the Wedding





The bride was alerted by the staff that it was nearly time to shut down the wedding venue but there were still rowdy guests out on the dance floor.  

She came to investigate and looked around expecting, I suspect, to find her similarly-aged (perhaps intoxicated) friends.  Instead she looked at us—five moms and two young women we had recruited into our circle-- and said, “Oh!  It’s you guys!”  We all waved to her and kept dancing our hearts out to “Build Me Up Buttercup.”

We continued dancing when the next song came on, knowing our time was limited and bathed in that particular happy light only a wedding can produce. 

I looked around at the circle of women, mostly in their fifties, the assortment of flowing dresses adorning various body types.  Life had been very different for all of us.  The mother of the bride, swayed in time with the mother of the groom --one from Washington, the other from Scotland.  I danced next to a woman I had known for years and one I had met just hours before.  

There were no partners.  We simply danced, a vibrant moving flower whose colorful petals waved and moved in the wind.  The two younger women danced with us and we enfolded them in the circle. We mothers felt the strength and glory that comes from producing life.  We had all been through joy and heartache.  Life had given us some muddy gravel roads to traverse and also some gorgeous perfect roses along the way. 

The younger women in the group had all that in front of them, the exquisitely beautiful and the painfully ugly, and at that moment, they all felt every bit of power and support in that group that they too, would make it through the journey and be just fine.

I love being where I am in this life.  Behind me are the insecurities of youth.  No longer do I hide as a wallflower, waiting to be asked to dance.  I dance when I want to, regardless of having a partner.  I love being with women my own age.  We understand each other.  We get it.  We support one another.  Gone are the small, petty differences we thought were so important.  Age brings wisdom, perspective, and a whole lot of forgiveness.

The last song played and we finally said good night to one another, lingering just a little before scattering out to our homes, knowing full well that we would never be together again.  

It was a moment in time that was both finite and infinite.   

The song ended.  Our music did not.

14 comments:

Olga Hebert said...

Beautiful.

ellen abbott said...

so true! I do not miss the insecurities of youth or the struggle of middle adulthood. great post.

Madi and Mom said...

Standing ovation BB!! You surely speak for me and I'm sure many other readers.
Many times recently I have thought how glad I am to be at this stage in my life.....being me.
Hugs Cecilia

Leah J. Utas said...

Beautiful in sentiment and beautiful in expression.

Hilary said...

Said like only you can say it. Keep on dancin'.

Ms. A said...

Wonderful! Keep dancing!

Hilary Melton-Butcher said...

Hi Betty - a wonderful way of describing life .. and one I imagine could be ... as has happened with married friends with children. You've described freedom so well .. and then those finite and infinite times with memories ..

Lovely - and beautiful flowers .. Hilary

Alison said...

Now *that's* writing, my friend. Remind me to read this when I'm 49, 'cause I'm gonna need some reassurance entering the next decade.

Daisy said...

Lovely post, Betty. I enjoyed this. :)

Baby Sister said...

You write so beautifully!! Thank you, Betty.

Gigi said...

Betty! I absolutely LOVED this! I need to print it out at tape it to my mirror to remind me every morning to dance.

Out on the prairie said...

Very nice Betty, we need to never hold back on a good time.

Tabor said...

Lovely...not sure I have been here in some time but so glad that Hillary made your entry a POTW!

Leanne said...

I missed this post last year, Betty, and only stumbled upon it now when I felt the need for a 'Betty fix'. This did the job. What a wonderful sentiment and moment you wrote about. Love every moment of it, and I feel extra blessed for you in sharing it with us. Hugs, my friend. We've never met - but it surprises me how often you will come to mind. . . like when I see a beautiful flower, or a bird singing on a wire, or even a cool pattern in a shopping cart. All these things you have taught me to notice, my friend, in the years our blogs have crossed. Much love. Xo