Yesterday was by far one of the best days of my life. I attended my first wedding since my new diagnosis. Everything from the wedding to the reception brought me tears of joy.
When the reception began and the DJ started the music, I was immediately brought to my feet by my dad pulling me to the dance floor. I eagerly followed his lead and we were dancing to the upbeat music. I have to admit, I felt a little awkward. I had no idea how to dance and my sense of rhythm was anything but graceful. It really didn't matter though. All I really cared about was that I was having fun with my dad. We smiled at one another and I can't help but think how happy he looked to see me up and dancing with him. Last night I learned that I LOVE to dance. As I said earlier, I had no idea what I was doing, but I didn't care. There was just something about bopping around the dance floor with my daughters, husband, nieces, nephews, cousins, sister-in-laws, brother and my parents. We had a blast dancing to everything from Kid rock to The Chicken Dance. I even did the Conga! I patiently waited all evening for a slow song. It was really important to me that I have the father/daughter dance that I was unable to do at my own wedding nearly eleven years ago. When American Soldier began playing, I knew I had to get my dad out on the dance floor. He gladly accepted my request. Again, I didn't know what I was doing and my dad showed me how to follow his lead, something that I was unable to learn from him years earlier. As I got the hang of slow dancing, I felt it was necessary to tell him all things that I never got to say on the dance floor at my own wedding. He reminded me that everything always works itself out in the end and he was right. By the end of the song, we both had tears in our eyes and unexpectedly I found myself giving my dad a hug and telling him that I love him. This is clearly a wedding that I will never forget. Last night I was given the gift of dancing with my family; a gift that I will never take for granted.
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