Sunday, June 6, 2010

A letter From Your Mother on the Occasion of Your First Dance Recital

Dear Clio,

I want you to know, I am so proud of you today.

For weeks, with your dance performance looming, you have been telling us that you were not planning to participate. You would say to me, "Mommy, I don't think I want to be in the performance, and that's okay," because this is what I kept telling you: that you did not have to get up there if you didn't want to, but that I thought you should give it a try.
And you did! I'm so proud of you for actually giving it a try, even though you were nervous and didn't know what to expect. On Friday, for the dress rehearsal, we got you dressed in your costume at home and negotiated your hair into a tiny little bun and put on red lipstick (you loved that part) so we would arrive at the Centaurus High School auditorium feeling ready. We got there nice and early so we would not feel rushed and panic. You seemed a little melancholy sitting backstage with your friend Tamsin, and then I had to leave you and go out to the auditorium and wait and wonder if you would ever appear on stage. It always amazes me that so much of motherhood is leaving our children--ultimately, whatever it is, we can't do it for you. And even though I leave you at school every day, and at day care before that, I always wonder what happens after I leave you in a new environment, and am struck that, especially at this age, I can't really know.


When it was your turn, you walked right out on stage with miss Tia, and you looked like such a small person, kind of too small to be expected to dance on a vast gulf of a stage, but you smiled a red lipstick smile and you did your best. You know what? You danced most of the steps. I came down to the edge of the stage to take pictures and you saw me and smiled some more. Afterwards, I asked you how you remembered all the steps, and you just shrugged your shoulders and said, "Oh, I just watch Tamsin."





And you repeated it all the next day, for an auditorium full of hundreds of people. Sure enough, you did watch Tamsin for all your cues, but you remembered parts on your own, too. When you finished, the crowd cheered for you, because you were the smallest dancers and you looked so great in your sparkly green costumes and you did an excellent job. I shouted your name and hoped you would hear me, because I had explained before the show that today you would not see me at the edge of the stage, but that you could rest assured that I was in the audience, watching. I wanted you to know I was really there.

I was the first in line to get backstage after the finale, and brought you the balloons that Eleri picked for you, and the peonies I chose because you like the ones in our yard so much. You loved the balloons, even though they were, technically, for a new baby girl. I kept saying how proud I was of you, but you just acted like it was no big deal.

We took you for ice cream and you got a chocolate cone and I think the thing you liked best about the day was all the treats, and who can blame you? On our way home, you said, "and now that the performance is over, I can wear my costume for dress up!" Ultimately, I think that's what you were waiting for all along.



I love you,
Mom

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