This weekend was truly the first time I spent most of the weekend thinking, "If we were still in Michigan, I would be (insert activity here) right now."
It was recital weekend there and I kept thinking about my fellow dance teachers (I really want to write "comrades in arms") at Connie Cassidy School of Dance and all the struggles/problems/frustrations... and joys... that occur in these two short days. Saturday is spent filling the stage as quickly as possible with class after class for rehearsal. Shoe changes happen rapidly (and not so rapidly), last-minute tickets are sold, and questions about nearly everything are answered. And on Sunday, nine months of weekly classes boil down to two hours on a red-curtained stage.
For nine years, I have spent a weekend in June in that theater, and I really missed it this year. I kept remembering all the things I would do to move things along and solve problems and help where I could. I kept thinking, "I should have told (insert name here) about (insert problem here)." But I'm not so deluded as to think it can't be done without me. And perhaps that bothered me a bit too...
But I also missed seeing all the hard work come together. There have been years when I felt like certain classes would never pull something off, and they did. There have been dancers that I thought would never "get it" and they did. Strangely, I also missed all the goofs and problems and catching the eye of a fellow teacher with the look of "What just happened?" flashing between us. And I missed seeing each dancer grow up as the years passed.
This year I'm also filled with guilt over the-recital-that-wasn't for my own daughters. I miss the after-church rush of eating lunch and getting dressed into beautiful costumes. I miss the frustration of trying to get Abby's long hair into a bun (or whatever she has in mind), and trying to get Ella to do something (anything PLEASE) with her hair. I missed the battle over just how much make-up I would allow. And the excited car ride to the high school...
And I missed the goofy grin I would get watching my girls dance... (the same grin I once chastised MY mother for wearing during my performances).
We didn't talk about it much at our house. I know the girls are disappointed. They love recital. And we were so close... the costumes are hanging in their closets. But it was time to put our family together again.
So I spent this weekend being "Recital Sick" (like being home sick) and trying not to show it. I think we did a good job of distracting the girls from the day (and I'll tell you about that later), but it didn't work so well for me... (sigh)