I grew up dancing, but my "career" ended as soon as I graduated high school. I always loved it, but I lacked the passion and am cursed with the knees of a grandma.
My little sister, however, has always been a driven dancer. Instead of continuing with the studio in which we had grown up in Montgomery, my parents started driving her at least twice a week to Birmingham to dance with a top studio. She basically started over. She relearned how to turn, how to leap, the basics of technique. But, what she really discovered was a passion for the art of dance in an environment of challenging teachers who groomed her into the dancer she was meant to be.
Fast forward ten years later and she is sharing her passion with students every day. She made a career of doing what she loves. How many people actually get to do that?
I've always been proud of her. How could I not be? But, tonight, I watched her studio's dance recital and was able to see all of her hard work poured onto the stage. I loved watching the excitement on her students' faces. I loved watching her choreography come alive. I loved watching her solo, the first one I'd seen in a couple years. But, I really loved sharing the experience with my daughter for the very first time.
I already planned to put C in dance classes as soon as possible. I knew she would love taking class from Aunt Mallory. I put her in a pink tutu on a weekly basis. But, tonight, I watched her light up as she watched live dance performances for the first time. She literally danced in my lap. She clapped her hands. She swayed back and forth. She bounced up and down. And sometimes, she just sat in awe of all that was before her. I couldn't be happier to share a family love of dance with the next generation; and I couldn't ask for a better role model for my tiny dancer than her Aunt Mallory. She'll be on that stage before we know it!