I found myself drawn to the daughters. The father-daughter dances struck a chord deep in me and I found myself watching it through misty eyes, with tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. In our circles, it’s not often that we get to see a father dance with his daughter and whilst that love is definitely not defined by a dance at a wedding, it was a poignant moment to be a part of. Intensely emotional was the heartfelt kiss each daughter bestowed on their father’s cheek and the following embrace, at the conclusion of their special dance.
Maybe it was the running emotions of the day, the glass of wine I had sipped from periodically. Or maybe I was just overtired and running on intensity. But as the family joined hands and danced one last time, I found myself unable to stop crying. The circle of family members suddenly represented for me the circle of life; how fleeting is our journey!
Marriage, births, children, school… and then the babies of yesterday are standing under their own marriage canopy. Days turn quickly into years, years into decades and I imagine the white bearded father of the groom wondering, “When did this happen?”
I find a friend and she sees my tears and asks me why I am crying.
Why am I crying? What is it that stirs me?
And I know it is this, the transience of life. The fear that my life will pass too quickly. That tomorrow I will be walking my last child to her marriage canopy, that my prime will be over before I know it.
And so I vow beneath my tears, for the tears fall now too as I write this. I vow to treasure each step. To cherish each moment. To indulge in the now. To make each day a memory worth remembering.
So that when my children dance around me and I hold the broom aloft, I will feel nothing but pride and satisfaction in the completion of my circle.