Before you go #14: Dance!

 

Dear Sam,

You are one cool dude.  I start this letter with that (perhaps obvious) fact, because I’m guessing my next recommendation for your life is one that will seem incompatible with said coolness.  Before you go, I hope you dance!

When you were little, one of you and your sister’s all time favorite movies was the “High School Musical” series.  You and Grace would regularly reenact the singing and dancing sequences from those movies, Grace playing the graceful and bookish Gabrielle, and you starring as the handsome, athletic Troy.  You and I especially enjoyed reenacting “Get’cha Head in the Game” which involved dribbling a basketball while singing and dancing.  I vaguely recall sending you off to one of your games in grade school with a particularly compelling mom version of the timeless advice:

“…fake right, break left / Watch out for the pick and keep an eye on defense / Gotta run the give and go and take the ball to the hole / But don’t be afraid to shoot the outside J”

As you might imagine, you were particularly inspired by this excellent advice delivered in song.  (I can feel your eyes rolling from here).

You and your sister also used to watch Dancing with the Stars and reenact the ballroom dances in real time.  I’m certain, if I were the kind of mom who kept her home videos and photos well organized and labeled, I could find an adorable video of the two of you, all blonde and chubby and curly haired, waltzing carefully around our living room, your bright blue eyes focused on each other and grinning ear to ear.  These memories I recount here probably embarrass you, but they bring so much remembered joy to my mama heart.

So there was a time in your life when you danced freely and regularly.  That was before you got too cool.  But this last month on vacation, I witnessed a resurgence of that little dancing boy.  Our resort featured nightly entertainment and on one memorable evening, we were informed that the feature of the evening was a “silent disco”.  We had been introduced to this concept one time before, and we were all excited to try it again.

A silent disco involves the distribution of individual headsets to all partygoers.  Each headset features 3 settings which correspond to little LED lights that lit up on the outside of each earmuff.  At his own discretion, each disco dancer selects one of the three stations/colors and proceeds to dance the night away.  At any given moment, every person in the room could be dancing to one of three styles and beats.  The only way to sync up with someone was to ensure their headset was glowing the same color as yours.  Otherwise, you could be dancing right next to someone grooving to an entirely different beat.  It is a silly, slightly surreal, and wildly fun experience.  It even got reluctant groovers like you and me out on the dancefloor.

At one point, I found my way to the side of the room to take a break and grab a drink.  I vividly recall seeing you and all 4 of your siblings syncing up your headphones and making the universal circle I remember from every high school and college dance to jive together, singing and grabbing each others’ hands.  I took off my own headset and just watched for a few moments. 

It was surreal to remove your headset at a silent disco.  In spite of the energetic gyrations and excitement on the dance floor, the entire room is, indeed, pretty quiet.  The only sounds that can be heard are those that dancing bodies make in motion—the occasional stomping foot or quiet singing along.  Unlike most dances I remember, the sound was quite muted.

I basked for a few quiet moments in the watching of the 5 of you.  Part of my desire for a big family has always been the connection, comradery, and lifetime support of people who knew you for always and loved you from your (or their) earliest days.  The bonds of siblings are like none other that I know of, and seeing you dancing joyfully altogether will be a memory I cherish for always.

In addition, I love seeing you cut loose like that.  I love seeing the eagerness of the boy peek out from behind the cynicism of the teenager.  With a thousand miles between you and anyone who hasn’t loved every iteration of the person you have been from the beginning; you were able to shed some of the “cool” and just dance.

So, before you go, I hope you dance.  And after you go, dance even more.  An oft expressed sentiment right now is to “dance like no one is watching,” and it is not bad advice really.  You did not know or care that I was watching that night in the warm dark of Jamaica, but I was locking the image into my heart.  Maya Angelou once said, “life loves the liver of it,” and that’s what this dancing business is all about.  Never be too cool to love life, and let it love you back.  Before you go, I hope you dance!!