Springtime Ballet

My mom and I loved to go see live performances together...the theatre or symphony, but especially ballet. I was a ballerina for about 15 years, from age 3 to age 18 (only seriously ambitious from about age 11 to 13), and mom always supported my dance interests enthusiastically. She never danced much herself, and she was by no means a "dance mom," she just thought it was so beautiful, and was so happy that it made me happy to do it.

At Christmas, and in the spring, we would typically go see the Local Ballet Company's (LBC from now on) production of the season, The Nutcracker and Something Else, respectively.
The LBC is no bit-shot deal, but they put on a lovely show for a small town company. The choreography is fresh, and the dancing is clean. The dancers always do a nice job.

Last spring, it was LBC production weekend, and mom was too sick to go anywhere. However, I had some dear girlfriends who came to town to spend some quality time and help me out; we ended up going to see the ballet, "Cinderella". As nice as it was, I felt weird not having my mom there. However, looking back, I am so grateful for that time when my friends took me in and gave me something that my mom couldn't at the time, but would have if she could.

Well, a few weeks ago I saw the billboard for this year's LBC springtime show, "Mary" (based on Mary Poppins). I love Mary Poppins. LOVE. You know who the first person I wanted to call was?
However, as I drove past, the excitement quickly soured into a sudden ache which nestled into the pit of my stomach, and breath whistled out of my mouth in a helpless sadness.
This happens a lot with the small things: I don't know what to do with it anymore, so I just let it sit there for awhile until something else gets my attention.

As a result, I decided that I didn't really have any interest in going to the ballet this year. It felt like something old me would do, something that new me couldn't. I didn't think I had any friends around who would want to go, and the men in my life would probably go if I forced them (but that's kind of against the point of doing something fun together).  Going alone would just be depressing.

Well, a couple of days after that, a co-worker and friend came up to me and excitedly said that there was going to be a ballet of Mary Poppins and that we should go. I love this friend, whose enthusiasm and hopeless romanticness kind of reminds me of my mom. Anyway, when she seemed so excited about going too, it made me feel unexpectedly relieved.

Even better, it turns out that there wasn't just one other person who could be excited about it, but several!  This soon developed into a group event: in no time, seven of us were going! I couldn't believe it. Only days before I thought that I had to let that memory go. Now I realized that "springtime ballet" could carry on in its girly tradition.

The seven of us had such a fun time today: we ate lunch at a great resturant on the square (my family's favorite, actually), and we walked over to the beautiful old auditorium to watch the ballet. It was a gorgeous, sunshine-y day to wander outside. The ballet itself was delightful and happy: impossible not to smile.

On this beautiful springtime day, I was so glad to spend time with these women. I teach with them, but I don't really ever get to spend much time just hanging out with them. It was really nice just to get to chat about regular stuff with them for a change. I think it was rare for all of us to take a whole afternoon and do something girly like getting dressed up, eating lunch out and seeing a ballet with other ladies. I know it's the first thing we have all done together outside of work.

I thought about my mom today a lot, and I missed her. But I didn't feel too sad. I felt happy thinking of all those memories and how she would be glad that I was making new ones and remembering her.  Maybe it's silly, and I don't know how it works, but I felt like she helped arrange today.  It would have been right up her alley.