In February, I first wrote about how I am dancing through a season of grief. Last week, the seventh anniversary of my daughter’s death rolled in quickly like a thunderstorm and faded away just as fast.
When I showed up for rehearsal on Friday night, another mom, who has also lost a child, asked me how I was doing, knowing that the previous day had been my daughter’s heaven day. I had been with my two oldest children for an event at our state capitol since early that morning so I hadn’t had any time to myself until the ride to the studio just then. I had started to cry on the way over so I didn’t really know how rehearsal would go. My friend said that she didn’t know how I could work with this song so much. I said I had always been ok at class and rehearsal, but I really had no idea what would happen that night since I was definitely fragile.
I had a hard time getting through I Can Only Imagine. My body just felt so heavy. The same for How Great Thou Art. I was thankful to sit down while they ran through a song that I wasn’t in. I got out some tissues and just took some deep breaths trying to make sure my silent tears stayed quiet.
When it was time to rehearse I Can Only Imagine again, I just couldn’t get up off the floor. It was actually nice to watch the dance since I had never done that before. Sooooooooo lovely! But I felt so alone. I resisted the urge to gather my things and leave. It took effort on my part to just stay. I got up for the next song, but I couldn’t lift my eyes. I was still trying to hold back tears. Miss Ballet Teacher kept telling me to lift my eyes, but I couldn’t. She was probably thinking, what is going on with this girl?
Finally, rehearsal was over. This was the first time that I didn’t enjoy myself. Even though it is challenging and hard, I always find the dance enjoyable. When I pulled out of my parking spot, I only got a few feet before the sobs came, so I parked again. I found the song You Raise Me Up on my iPod and put it on continuous play, listening to it until I felt it was safe for me to drive home.
joy really does come in the morning
I lay in bed the next morning, thinking about how much better I felt than the evening before. I was thankful and prayed that the lightness in my spirit would remain. And it did. Conditioning class and then rehearsal went great–or at least in my heart, they went great. I’m just a beginner, you know.