Inner Sanctum
Dance, everybody dance
text: by Carolyn Felderman
Through all the Septembers of my life I will dance, if only in my heart. Through my words I invite you to dance, along with us, with someone else or even alone. Dance, everybody dance!
More than four years has already passed since that devastating day in the operating theater when something went dreadfully wrong, which rendered my beloved husband immediate postop paraplegic.
What I remember vividly of that day is how life as we knew it seemed to vanish, with one-second in time. We couldn’t turn back the hands of time, or void the second that took so much from us, but I vowed to make certain that we would grasp every minute thereafter, living life to the fullest.
I would be unfair to my soul, the force which carried me, to trivialize the adversity my family faced. We alone had control of our destiny. We could sink deeper and wallow, or we could face our fallen souls and climb. We chose to conquer the mountains before us.
Along our steep journey, we found ourselves uplifted by our unconditional love for one another. We learned patience as the key to perseverance. We focused on determination, defining goals we needed to reach. We embraced an abiding faith, and found forgiveness in our hearts. Together as a family we continued to climb and rose to greater heights than we ever imagined possible. We created a whole new life which rings louder than all the church bells of the world with Amen.
However, reality sometimes still arises, being as painful as a hard slap of a hand to cheek flesh. I have learned to grab the arm that bears the assaulting hand, as it comes toward me, before it causes pain.
August 31st 2002, when the invitation to our nephew’s wedding arrives, I feel that invisible hand about to strike my cheek with yet another reality. This will be the first wedding we will not take the dance floor. It is time to climb again, to hear yet another church bell toll within our hearts.
After quick removal of the kitchen chairs, a push of the table to against the wall, I extend my hand and ask, “May I have this dance?”
Arnie, my husband, wheels himself across our kitchen floor taking my outstretched hand. We have no idea how to begin and to offset our clumsy moves he begins to sing for us. We turn on some love tunes and together the three of us dance…me, him, and the wheelchair.
September 2002 is a turning point of accomplishment for us. We practice dancing, faithfully every evening, choreographing a routine to Bon Jovi’s, Thank You for Loving Me. We learn the art of wheelchair dancing. Our plans to dance have been secretly made with the disc jockey. It is our hope that everyone in the room will realize that empowering whatever great adversity life hands you is how you meet challenge. After all, isn’t life in itself a gift of challenge?
We take the dance floor, dedicating our dance to those we love and whose love in return, through it all, has helped to sustain us. And with special thanks to our children, who have been the rainbows through the clouds.
Although we can dance this routine in our sleep by now, (sometimes I still do in my dreams), we are both nervous. As we look into each other’s eyes, sing the words to one another while dancing, we become mesmerized. We find ourselves at ease with our routine going as effortless as a figure skater’s blade across the ice. Nearing the end of the song, I step up onto the chair platform with one foot, pushing us off with the other. This enables us to go into a wide, full floor area spin. Only precise control of our weight will balance and turn the chair. The pushoff must be strong, giving enough velocity to end the spin with two smaller ones.
Sudden fear sets in that I’ve pushed off too powerfully. We’re going too fast. My mind flashes consideration of putting my foot down that is extended behind me, to slow us down. Instead, I believe and whisper, “We can fly!”
And fly we do. Confidence graces me to extend my arms as though they are wings. I am at this very minute as close to knowing what it feels to be an angel in flight, with Arnie beneath me supporting my wings, so second nature to our relationship. Perhaps there is an angel carrying us across the floor as WE FLY, dancing on the wings of faith, love and forgiveness.
So now it’s your turn. Won’t you dance this minute as a gift to yourself? Highlight your day, uplift your spirit and cleanse your soul.
Dance with someone you love, be it spouse, lover, friend, coworker, with a baby in your arms or a small child upon your feet. Allow your heart to soar, spreading your wings of life. Dance, everybody dance! ¦
Carolyn Felderman is a Virginia Beach-based writer. Visit her online at www.gardengertie.com. Previous | Home | Next