to my son
April 7, 2015 § 4 Comments
There is a moment from last week that I keep returning to; an image just askew of my periphery that pulls my eyes off task and towards a recent memory. It is a small thing, but in each remembering it offers a lingering delight.
We had just delivered your sister to a lesson and I had dragged you, to your great disappointment, on an errand. As I combed the store for the necessary items, I caught a sudden movement and turned to see you dancing. It’s the kind of performance most would leave for the privacy of their room, an exhibition I myself would probably reserve for the borrowed bravery of a rarely indulged second glass of wine. Uninhibited you snaked your way through the empty store intoxicated by the music.
I’ve spent so much of your life noting the social norms that it was second nature to entertain a lesson. The words felt bitter on my tongue, puckering my thoughts from the ease of the smile you had only just gifted me. I told you then how much I envy your reckless disregard for thoughtless rules that bind us to a hyperconsciousness for others’ opinions. If I were braver I might have danced with you.
We talk of dancing like no one is watching, but you live with a truer fearlessness. I hope you always hear the music in the mundane.
Love, Mom
scribblechic 
What a beautiful movie for you to be able to play in your head when you need it most:).
It has been running on a tireless loop for the past several days inspiring countless distracted smiles.
What a great image you have related.
Thanks, Andy. I wasn’t certain I could do the memory justice, but these little sharing are the breadcrumbs to moments too easily forgotten.