It’s one of the most anticipated parts for the bride and groom after they say their vows and seal it with a kiss. Well, one reason is pretty obvious, but I’m talking about their first dance as husband and wife. The groom takes the bride’s hand and they seem to float across the dance floor. Bride and groom starring into each other’s eyes, every motion of every body part swaying in its overwhelming romance. They gaze at each other and the world blurs out in the background. They embrace and balance each other. Compensate the other when the step gets complicated or the timing is missed. They smile, some cry, others may laugh. But always at the end of the dance they cling to each other and kiss.
The bridal party stares at them some reminisce of when that was them on the dance floor, others watch on with Disney eyed romance dreaming of their chance, and some watch in awe that someone else boarded the crazy train. I watch, sometimes tearing up, believing so passionately about marriage and having failed at mine crushes me. Sometimes, though, I watch and smile with the hope that a happy ending is possible.
One of my dearest friends who had been a single mom from the age of 17 to 24 married this year. I was ecstatic that she asked me to be her maid of honor. I watched this woman blossom into a beautiful mother, friend, person, and now a wife. She transformed gracefully and although I know getting to this point for her was a hard, lonely, frustrating, and at times confusing road trip, she made it. As I watched them slow dance for the first time as man and wife, my eyes swell with tears. So proud of her and a glimmer of hope was put in my heart.
I won’t be sharing a slow dance with anyone of that significance any time soon. I’m still trying to figure out what healthy love really is and what it looks like. I do spin in circles, though, leading my children in the everyday routine of our lives. We take each other by the hand and follow the timing and every now and then throwing in a twirl. We keep things interesting here and there with a twerk. But we embrace each other, blurring out the people beyond our situation. When the right person comes along he can join in our dance and learn our flow and rhythm. I actually really like the idea that one day the right guy will come along and scoop us all up, as he adds new encouraging things to our dance routine. Joins us for Tuesday night dance offs, enjoys pizza movie nights, builds pillow forts with us Saturday morning, lounges with us on Sunday, kisses us goodbye as we go our separate ways for the day. Slow dancing with me in the kitchen to a random song as we do the dishes, kisses my forehead as we cuddle on the couch, to argue and then make up, and to brush the tears from each other’s face. One day, right? One day….