Shut Up & Dance with Me! -Blazz

 

     When I was much younger, not that I am the crypt keeper now but picture this: I am about 5 or 6 years old. Cutest thing - let me tell you, my Grandmother stuck me in a tap dancing class. I am not a dancer. I can honestly say that I never have been. I never wanted to be. Looking back I guess what I said didn't matter so much then. Remember, I was young and who listens to the "children" anyways? Now, I really don't think it wasn't about listening to me, I think it was more about how much My Grandmother loved a show - and a show I did end up putting on. My class had to all dress like little floppy girls and bust out of a life size box to the music "Oh You Beautiful Doll" - twirling around like we knew what we were doing. I didn't but the applause drown out the embarrassment I felt.

     Q: My 1st real dance? 
     A: I really cant remember my very 1st dance but I sure can recall the one that was the most meaningful to me.

Summer always kicks off with the long road trip to Montana. I suffer because I know that when the car finally gets placed into park - I get to see two of my kids.
     Saisha: There are no words to really describe that child of mine. She was built of fire. I would swear that she is my Grandmother reincarnated if it wasn't for the fact that she was still here with us when my daughter was born. She has that same spit fire and temper that my Grandmother did - yet she might have been half Lucille Ball as well with the sense of humor channeling through. When I think about it - maybe it has something to do with the red hair they all have in common? Saisha, though I am sure she doesn't even know it - is the kind of person you always want to be. Her smile and laugh is so contagious. The child is wild. A free spirit. She radiates a love that cant be contained.
     Blazz:  If anyone is going to change the h*ll in this World and make it right it is going to be him! I knew from the second he took his first breath that great things were in store for me. I was right, this tiny little human was fire! He is everything right on this Earth. He is kind. He is caring and he is brilliant. You watch for him - he will be Blazin' his way across this Universe at some point.

     Summers in general seem like a rewound VSH tape being set on repeat over and over. I guess that never really mattered to much though. Road trips and family time. Why want for anything more? I need to tell you though, I am not a big fan of Montana. I don't have really anything against it per-say. It is just here in Washington, this is Home. We have cars, stores and indoor plumbing. I like that sh*t. A lot.
     Most times we bunk with Saisha at her place unless she is mad at one of us for some "crazy" reason - so we end up at one of the only two motels for 10 million miles around. Staying at Saisha's is always one for the books - no questions or explanations there OR maybe a few to many to answer in this life. We have a great time. We have a not so great time. We have fun. We have no so much fun. Typical dysfunctional family vacation.

     When I miss my kids the most, that is the time that flies by the quickest for me. I don't think they realize how much those very few second mean to me. It was getting close to the time for this particular vacation to come to a close. We needed to start giving our "awkward" hugs out along with our tears before we took the long dirt road drive back to the city. Sometimes I just want to hurry and go because lingering just makes my heart hurt a little more. This time though before I could get out of there, Mighty (that's what I call my son for typical reasons) called me to the front yard. When I was able to get through the pile of luggage stalling me at the front door, I made my way over the dust and dirt that I would venture to say held up the front porch but not really - to (a branded) city folk it just seemed that way. He ask me if I would do him a favor. Was he kidding right now? He was my son? I would walk through burning flames for him. I would do anything for him. Anything. Almost. ----> I let someone slice my skin open with a razor blade - digging deeper and deeper just so he knew I would always be apart him and him apart of me - even though he already had been for as long as I could remember.
     This boys request: To dance with him. I knew that he had to be kidding. It was a blazin' 200* outside - in the shade, under a tree with the fan blowing on high. Dance with him? Hell, I didn't know anything about dancing. I was no dancer. But my son, he didn't care. Here was this guy who towered over me - his one hand bigger then the both of mine with room to spare. There was no music. I don't think there was music. The only thing I was sure of was while he was spinning me around - it wasn't just my feet that were twirling in glee but also my heart. He made me laugh. Really laugh. A laugh that I had not felt in so long. Not a strained laugh but a truly joyous laugh. One that I had long forgotten about. 

     I felt silly. Right there in the middle of Saisha's front yard. In the middle of dust field. In the middle of no where. In the middle of Montana ... my son asked me to dance with him. I felt like Ginger Rogers. I know I didn't even come close to touching her greatness in the art she over claimed as her own but that was okay by me because for that split second, that glorious moment, that one minute in time that I was able to share with my son - I chose to dance and I liked it. And somehow I knew that the one clapping the loudest was Grandma as she looked down at the two of us - putting on our own show stopping choreography. 

                                                                 Kazz 💋