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  • Donna Arthur Downs

A special dance

Small work boots danced on the flatbed train, first one knee high in the air, then another. He suddenly stopped and lifted his arms, extending little hands to hold mine. Eyes twinkling and lips smiling, he had my full attention.

“Dance with me, Grandma!”

Taking his hands into mine, I felt his warmth reverberate through the small fingertips, though the air was chilly and our breath lingered like smoke in the sun’s beam.

One foot up and then the other. Left. Right. Swirl clockwise. Come back around. Up. Down. Around and around.

Centered on the platform, we moved about, tightly holding hands, concentrating on only one another and our next step together…as if no one else existed. His sober face said, “Dancing is a task.”

No music played. We didn’t have to keep rhythm or worry about falling out of step. The sun shone brightly as the gentle breeze caressed our cheeks, coloring them pink. He looked up at me and smiled. I held more tightly to his hands.

Around and around we twirled, creating memories on this very special day. Leaning down, I scooped him up in my arms and held him tight. He nuzzled his nose into my neck and we stood still for just a moment. I leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Joah Boy!” I exclaimed. “You’re 3 years old!”

He quickly wiggled out of my arms and hurried off to the next new attraction.

Watching him scurry away, I savored the moment…knowing that all to quickly moments become days. Days become years. Years become lifetimes.

This fleeting moment for him was one of my most memorable … forever etched in my heart…dancing with my grandson on a cold but sunny afternoon.

© 2014 donnaarthurdowns


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