There was a June wedding in our family.
A bride and her bridesmaids.
Mothers and friends, aunts, nieces, female cousins.
The fairer sex was everywhere.
But other than the bride, which girl is the most excited at a wedding in that "deep-down, twirl-around-the-room" kind of way??
I'm pretty sure it's the flower girl.
So much joy in the celebration. Getting your hair done with the bride and her attendants. A beautiful new dress and slippers, a crown of flowers, and your name right there in the program! All-in-all, a dream come true for a young girl.
But, oh wait...the very best thing? A dance or two (or three) with dad.
Yes, this dad. This dad who doesn't dance. I have known this particular brother for forty-@#*%& years now, and he just doesn't dance. Sigh. I will never be able to figure out how men who are so athletically gifted just decide at a young age that they won't can't dance. They will publicly get knocked out, thrown down, battered, bruised and bloodied in the name of sport, but ask them to go "once around the dance floor"....Noooooooooo!
But dance he did on this stormy June night in Florida, as his youngest became the newest flower girl in the family. Bless him, he danced and danced. And she never stopped beaming. She probably hasn't stopped yet.
I picture bedtime at their house the past two weeks has gone something like this:
"Hey dad, remember when we danced at the wedding?"
"Yes, honey, I do."
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"That was really fun."
I wish men "got" this about dancing. It really does make them the total package. This particular man is kind and smart, funny and hardworking. A great father. A great brother. But when he dances with a woman who loves him, well, we (the females in his family) all stand back with our hands folded ever so lightly on our chests, holding our collective breath. We are moved. We are girls.
And this is how happy a little dancing made one lucky flower girl. And her dad.
(Let's pause here for a moment and try to determine where this beautiful child got her giant smile.)
Just because I love this photo so much, I'm adding in the color version. And now let's ponder where she got those eyes. Wait, actually I'm pretty sure those are from her mother. Sorry, bro.
And just for the record, yes, other males in my family danced that night, too. In public. And I have proof.
Just sayin'.
