I have written before about watching Carmen play soccer or Lilly play basketball. I never want to miss watching them. Carmen always thrills me with her skill and intelligence. Lilly impresses me with her sheer athleticism and determination.
I sometimes write about my little girls that dance. Not often. I still feel new to the dancing "scene". I have my own version of sports mom down. It is unique, mostly because I believe a home schooling mother of many children inevitably brings a unique perspective to just about everything she does. So now, after just a couple of years, I am figuring out the "dance mom" thing, in a way that suits the realities (and joys of my life).
Last night Aggie and Kay danced in the end of the year recital for their studio. Their school is small, family owned and run. They are a fixture in Manassas. Miss Bonnie and her husband have been parishioners at All Saints for 40 years. Miss Lisa, Kay's instructor, their daughter, went to school there. It is a lovely place and I am very happy to have found a home there for my little girls.
This year, as I got Kay ready, did her hair, gave her just a little blush on her cheeks, I was struck by her clam and confidence. She is only eight. But this was her thirds recital. She knew what she was doing. And she does love that stage. When she came out onto the stage, so straight and beautiful it took my breath away. I marveled at how long and fluid her whole body suddenly seemed. Such grace. She was smiling, big.
As I helped Aggie get dressed, she was a bundle of five year old excitement. Her first time on a stage, under lights. She wasn't scared. She was Tinkerbell, complete with a little pair of green wings, read to float on the stage. I left her, she assured me she would be fine, waiting with her class. She wanted me to see her dance.
When she lead her line of fairies out, of course, the tears sprang to my eyes. She was perfect. Really. And so so happy.
I didn't film them. There is a DVD I can buy. I may. (Some incredibly intense work issues made it impossible for Dave to be there. It was heartbreaking for him.) I will probably watch it once again. Still, something in me likes that I have those images, those emotions, safely captured in my heart. It is not so much that I need to see it again. I have that moment, when time stood still, and my little girls were the only ones I could see on that stage.
(These wonderful pictures are courtesy of my father.)