Life's a Dance

 

It was 1994 in Montgomery, Alabama.  The only thing bigger than my dreams was my hair.  Sorority semi-formal in a southern town - a perfect storm of future TikTok content.  We were on the dance floor cutting the proverbial rug when I planted my black high heel squarely and with great force on Michael’s big toe.  And because steel-toed boots were frowned upon at such an occasion, that toenail has never been the same.  It didn’t slow us down, but Michael did, with some firmness, comment on the fact that the Great Toenail Massacre of ’94 could have been avoided had I just let him lead. 

As of this morning there are no longer any teenagers in the Dulion household.  The baby boy turned 20 today – unbelievable.  I got to squeeze him – all six-foot, four amazing inches of him – and all I could think was ‘THIS, this is my most favorite time to be your Mama’.  I’ve said those exact same words at every stage of their lives – as I sniffed newborn heads, as I cheered for first wobbly steps, as I made up songs about using the potty, as I took off training wheels and tried on first pairs of shin guards and cheered from basketball bleachers and conquered the mysteries of the combination lock and stomped on my passenger brake pedal during white knuckle driving lessons.  But this stage, this one?  It’s my favorite.

Parenting young adults is a lot like a dance where both partners really, really, really want to lead.  It can be a great time, but you’d better be prepared to get your toe squarely and forcefully smashed on occasion.  It’s the time that all the songs talk about when we’ve done our jobs well and are supposed to sit back and watch them “spread their wings”.  It’s also, however, probably the time when they need us the most.  The future is looming large, and it is terrifying.  They are all at once sure about everything, and absolutely nothing.

The definition of “life altering decisions” hits them squarely between the eyes, and they’re just not sure if they want to run boldly into the great unknown or sit in your lap eating goldfish while you read them a story.  They balk at your rules but seek your counsel.  They struggle to find the sweet spot between feeling like a visitor in their childhood bedroom and really enjoying the safety net of a meal plan and gas card.

And somewhere in the midst of ALL that uncertainty and dancing and toe smashing. . . they become.  They become these AMAZING humans who you are no longer biologically mandated to spend time with, but for whom you willingly drive hours for just a few minutes of their time.  They become thinkers of deep thoughts and conversation carriers.  They become contributors and encouragers.  They become considerate and concerned.  They become givers of gifts and appreciative receivers.  They become humble and kind and confident and poised.  And those little people who you squared off with so many times, reminding them that ‘you are their parent, not their friend’?  Well, it turns out they become the best of friends.

Happy birthday, baby boy.  You amaze me just by being you.  Keep wanting, keep reaching, keep challenging, keep learning, keep believing, keep caring, keep wondering, keep questioning, keep pushing, keep becoming, keep DANCING.  These aren’t my words, but I sure wish they were, because boy did he nail it: “Life’s a dance you learn as you go.  Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow.  Don’t worry about what you don’t know.  Life’s a dance you learn as you go.”  THIS! This is my most favorite time to be your Mama!