Final Recital

Final Recital

  The stage was set for ballerinas and beyond.  The crowds were filling the red seats as butterflies filled my stomach.  The lights were dim, but skimmed the wooden stage.  I rehearsed and searched for courage.  In my mind: plie, arabesque, balancé, don’t forget to turn and gracefully sway.  My nerves danced inside me like the dancers spinning across the platform.  I was trimmed with a flowy dress that fluttered so lightly when I moved.  My heartbeat was jumping like a prima ballerina in New York.  What soothed my fear was the air of my family in the crowd.  They sat amongst the dark aisle mindfully cheering for their fair dancer.  Blush shoes refined my balancing feet.  Showtime!  Poise and smile!

The music flowed from curtain throughout theatre.  Swish, Swish!  Good dance, wish upon a star lamp.  My dance partner’s brute strength lifted me into the air.  I was a robin upon a branch for a moment, looking at the auditorium below.  Tip-toe-tip-toe.  Finesse fingers and arms bloomed like a flower.  Elegance exuded through delicate hand.  My dad in the shadowy distance, watched with “That’s my daughter. She’s dancer perfect.” favor.  My mom looked over at his wonderment face.  Tears brimmed his eyes, glazing his view.   Sentiment and love welled for his center stage daughter.  My dad was my center stage man.  Observing eyes kept watch till the last curtsey.  I spun backstage.  “Bravos!” and approving claps bid me leave.  I could breathe!

I skipped to meet and greet my family.   Hugs were given like wrapped tutus.  “Good jobs” sashayed through the hall.  My dad approached with red rose in hand.  “You were the best one up there!” I tended to disagree.  I haven’t danced in years.  He was as sweet pink as my ballet shoes.  At that moment, I did not know this would be his last recital he would adorn.  My crimson rose marked final teary-eyed recital.  My dad, ascended stage left the next year.  My dance agent, my fond fan attended his “final recital” night.