“Christ is the incarnation of the piper who is calling us."
~ Sydney Carter
Today she’d show them! She would rise from her wheelchair and show
them that, at nearly 100, she could still dance. Dance like the days back when, as a beautiful
young girl, boys would wait in line to dance with her; everyone dancing like
they'd forgotten how to stand still.
Yes, today she’d show them that she was not just an
octogenarian who needed help eating and getting dressed in the morning. She began pulling herself up from her chair
but her arms were simply too weak.
Sophia collapsed back into her seat.
She tried again, this time getting to her feet before she felt a firm
hand on her shoulder.
“Sit down Sophia!” the nurse said and she collapsed back
into the chair again.
“Not again!” she thought.
It was happening again. The
picture in her mind began fading; a distant memory of happier times.
She’d been in love once, over 70 years ago. Marco had been what her heart had truly been
seeking. The picture in her mind regained
its clarity.
Marco loved dancing too.
The lights twinkled with every step as Sophia spun in delicate circles,
her graceful dress billowing. She loved
the pressure of his warm hand on her back and the feeling of her small agile
feet gliding across the floor like a gentle dove in the wind. Their life together had been wonderful.
Sophia outlived Marco and everyone she’d ever known. They said that long life was a blessing, and
the part of her that wanted to dance still believed this. Such thoughts suddenly made her drowsy,
eventually giving way to sleep.
When she awoke she was in the dining room, and someone had
placed a white bib on her so she wouldn’t spill. She decided that the time was now.
She pushed herself up from the
chair and got to her feet, and for a second she felt like a teenager again. She placed her arms around Marco’s imaginary
neck and began shuffling her feet, imagining grand ballrooms as she swayed back
and forth.
But a loud voice snapped Sophia back into the present. “Sit
down before you break your hip,” the nurse shouted angrily. Sophia reluctantly complied.
She needed those memories to remain with her, to soothe her
when the bad ones threatened to erase all traces of those people she still held
dear, even in their absence. And at
least for a moment she’d gone to a place in her mind that no one could take
from her; a place where she could celebrate all that she once was.
She slumped back into the chair. Soon the wonderful memories faded into
silence, and Sophia’s mind grew quiet until the next time Lord, when she'd dance again.
“Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord
of the Dance, said He, and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, and I'll
lead you all in the Dance, said He.” ~
Ronan Hardiman
