Dancing to Cotton-Eyed Joe
My baby brother and his family visited us this past weekend. For a childless couple set in their ways it was an adjustment! But we loved it and now the house is SO quiet.
On Saturday night, after supper, we were in the family room relaxing and talking when the 18-month-old decided to dance. So we played her favorite song and she really rocked out. Then we played the two-and-a-half-year-old’s favorite song. That would be Cotton-Eyed Joe. Well now, I’m partial to that one, too!
So we all danced. Grown-ups, little ones, even the dog jumped in. We hopped around, stomped our feet, did some random jigs, clapped, and laughed. In the midst of it I thought to myself. Now THIS is living.
It was sheer joy and love and laughter and if anyone looked in the window as they went by I have to think they smiled. And it would never have happened without those kids. My husband and I have moments of joy, but we rarely whoop it up like that. Kids give you permission to be a little silly. To cut loose in ways you wouldn’t otherwise.
I don’t live in the moment nearly enough. I’m too busy planning ahead or reliving something that’s past. And while some of that is needed, this moment right here, the one we’re sharing now, well that’s pretty fine, too.
That’s what those kids gave me this weekend. A reminder to stop and mark moments of grandeur–not later, but right then. Moments when joy overflows and calls out to you to breathe in the smell of baby hair and breathe out laughter. And then to dance because now is so very, very good.