The pair walks hand in hand. Mother and child, a pairing as old as time itself. Yet, this is a modern Madonna tableau. The mother is neither young nor pert, but of a “certain” age. This daughter is the desire of her soul, a reward for her faith in hope, science and extreme tenacity. The woman has done this before, long ago. She understands the precious, fleeting nature of this time, of any time spent hand in hand with the keeper of her heart. The truth: she is living the dream – joy in her heart, a dance in her step! As with most things in life, don’t blink or you will miss it…
The mother pulls the 9-year-old closer, walking happily side by side. “Well, hello there,” the mother says to a child not her own. “When my mom starts to dance in public, I attach myself to the next closest mother,” shares the little girl with a grin too closely resembling a grimace. The pink-tied knot of mothers and daughters look on as The Mother dances a few steps in front of them, smiling, laughing and with complete, though tasteful, abandon.
This is no midriff-baring, backcombed hoochie mama. She is well groomed, ballet flat-wearing and chic. A mother you see in the carpool lane day in and day out. She thinks, “Why not!” Life is sweet, the day is lovely, and she is happy. It is unimaginable to her confident, womanly self that she could cast a cloud across her beloved daughter’s face. And therein lies the rub: the mother knowing life is a precious gift, a miracle, fleeting, the daughter not imagining it any other way.
It will be many years until the girl becomes a woman, a mother. Faced with a love all-consuming, she may find herself warmed by life and the beauty of the day, dancing the “family move.” And with a look back over her shoulder, glimpses a long lost cherished childhood memory of her mother.