I hope you dance

The boat was rocking in the wind and the waves, although the sun was shining. Most passengers had elected to don snorkeling gear and enter the ocean, to look at the colorful fish below the surface.

I was indecisive. I wanted to get in the water and snorkel; I had come on the boat excursion partly for that reason. But I've snorkeled in choppy waters before, and it's not much fun, unless - unless - you see some great fish swimming about.

But you won't know that until you get in the water, right?

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance


In the end, I decided not to do it. I felt a bit better when another passenger emerged from the ocean and said that it wasn't worth it - too much work for too few fish. But I'd passed on an opportunity to have some fun, and I had some regrets.

Country singer Lee Ann Womack performed a song in 2000 called "I hope you dance." I was impressed with the writing and with the sentiment.

I've passed on a few chances to dance, literally and figuratively, in my past, largely to my regret. But I admire those who do choose to dance, as it were. I am surrounded by such people, in fact, by my wife Jan and my two children, Matthew and Kelly.

There are a few things my wife passes on - think stuff like skydiving -, but when it is time to screw up her courage and be responsible, there is no one like her. And she's a gamer in most situations.

We taught our kids to dance from the beginning. They were allowed to change activities like swimming, dance, soccer or basketball if they wished, but if you made a commitment to participate, you played through the season.

We introduced our kids to swimming when they were six months old. Matthew took to it, but Kelly, after enjoying the first swim session, decided she didn't like it at all. Tears and loud protestations followed before, during and after each swim.

What should we do as her parents? We wondered.  We decided to tough it out, and the word is apropos. It was tough. But, in the last session, something surprising happened: She liked it! She had fun! And the swim lessons continued for both our kids, who eventually swam competitively on the Belleville Tigers Swim Club.

They danced. They still do, in fact.

My grandson Noah dances often, and I love watching the enthusiasm, the excitement. When I first see him on a visit, it's "Pa, come see this," or "Pa, come see that." And we immediately launch into an activity lasting a few or many minutes, and move on to something else when it makes sense to both of us.

Jan said of Noah and his parents the other day, "They're going to make that kid's life one long series of adventures." Jan said it in a highly positive way. I could see immediately whet she was talking about, and I heartily agreed.

On the last leg of our recent flight to the Caribbean, I was not able to arrange seats next to anyone in the family. So, I sat alone in a window seat. I was not able to read because my Kindle ran out of battery, and I was bored. And hungry.

Noah and Matthew were seated two rows behind me. Matthew offered me some food, but I declined. And then I hear the little voice, stunningly clear and articulate for a two-year-old, asking me, "Pa, you want some chicken?"

I laughed alone in my seat, hard, and it was one of the those incidents, where, if you think about what just happened, you laugh again, and again.

My heart melted, and I was once again happy. "No thank you, Noah," I replied to the little voice a couple rows behind me in the airplane. And I laughed again. What a kid.

Later on the boat journey in the Caribbean, I jumped in the water and snorkeled. The view below the surface was a bit disappointing, but I was glad I did it. And better still, we climbed into and through a cave that had been a hideout for real pirates in the late 18th century.

The climb was a bit dangerous, but it was bracing to emerge though the hole at the top of their lair, to stand maybe 50 feet above the ocean on a rocky promontory surrounded by sand, water and wind. In the surface of the stone at the peak, the pirates had carved their names and other information, a lasting reminder of a different time, a different world. Ah, history.

(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?).

Dance.