This year marks the tenth year that I have been taking dance
lessons from my local dance studio. I can’t think of anything else
that I have done for ten years. Minus the necessary human functions
like eating, and sleeping. Breathing. I have become attached to the
idea of dance so much that almost nothing can get in the way of it. I
have broken my ankle, dislocated my kneecaps multiple times, received
a concussion and fractured my humerus, and no, it wasn’t very
funny, but none of this stopped me from going to practices and
watching the other girls dance.
Even if I’m tapping away with a giant immobilizer on my leg, I
was going to give it my all. Even if it’s the beginning of the dance
year, when we have nothing but review to work on, and I have my arm
in a sling and my brain is a puddle of mindless thoughts and
confusion from going down a slip and slide, I was going to at least
sit down and watch the practice. Even if I spent all year working on
several dance routines, only to fall and break my ankle, crying not
because of the physical pain, but knowing that it was days before the
recital, I was going to watch all the routines and cheer all my
fellow dancers on.
This year I had to wear braces on my legs to prevent my knee caps
from moving and sliding out of place. I had to make sure they didn’t
fall down while I was dancing, and if one of the straps came undone I
had to smile and wait to fix it.
Watching my all my sisters march out onto the stage during the
finale at the end of the two o’clock show made the proud big sister
in me jump up and take control. Running to pick up Tina and watch as
the curtains closed, then re-open so that we could wave to all the
people who came too see us dance, and with that final close, it was
time for food, a nap, and a happy attitude for the 7 o’clock show.
I was the only one in this show, but Ella and Stephanie were
out in the audience watching.
Knowing that this year was that least year some of my friends
would be doing dance hurt. Katlyn’s going to college, Chloe is leaving, and the two other seniors, which includes the one
who shares my name.
“Kathryn, I want you to know that it was nice to have you with
me in my final year of dance.”
-The senior with my name
No, this isn’t my last year, but I still get emotional when I
think about the day that I will eventually have to say goodbye to the
studio and some of the memories inside.
tl;dr - I get emotional about dance