Barre

Disclaimer: Proceed with caution. Proud mother ahead.

Reluctantly, Kiahra responded to my call to rise and shine for ballet. Of course, the dreary day begins by producing rain upon our arrival.

Andrew is teaching today. He greets Kiahra with surprise, but I hear the hope in his voice when he inquires if she is joining his class this morning. It is a class designed for adults. She is there to make-up her missed class earlier in the week due to her band concert.

His eyes light up when she affirms his question. I see his mind begin working routines that I sense are designed for Kiahra. He pushes her to the max. He has her driven personality and he loves to see how far he can take her. They have the same dance personality...Intensity. I only know Kiahra is reluctantly embracing this class, as it was evident earlier through her body language...until she entered the studio.

As Andrew's eyes twinkled with the challenge, her body stood poised with willingness to accept the challenge she knew was coming. He senses this. As the music begins after rapidly fired instructions that I cannot even absorb, his eyes study her movements intently. I follow his eyes. My untrained eyes do not see what he sees, but I see her legs rippling with control as she navigates the complicated routine. Those legs I have disliked my entire life. The ones that were too big to sport the tight jeans of the 80s. Suddenly, they are beautiful in the strength and poise of dance. Enamored I watch those legs move through the routine at the barre with such flexibility, grace, and beauty my eyes fill with tears.

As I glance back to Andrew he is still studying her with intensity. There is no one else in the room through his eyes. He enjoys the challenge of watching her and evaluating her slightest movement to create the beauty of dance. When the music stops, he gently demonstrated the subtle hip movement he was want Kiahra to modify. He addresses her and haphazardly includes the rest of the class. Then he fires another routine and the music begins accompanied by the staccato of his snapping fingers. I watch as she modifies her movements. He is too. Pleased, he scans the rest of the dancers.

Andrew is from California. He learned to dance there. He knows Kiahra will be studying there shortly. I know he wants her to perform well. He told me he sees a gift in my children (he works with Kade too). I now know he is not being nice, as that is not his style. He is sincere and serious about ballet.

My nostalgia for the time Kiahra has spent in this studio, I know, is related to our rapidly approaching departure. I am intensely proud of her. I hope she always dances. Her body was made to dance. I know she dreams of dancing.

Despite the challenges of life, I hope she always dances in the rain, the sunbeams, with children, with elderly, in darkness...and still discovers the twinkling stars. I hope all my children dance.