Nutcracker Pride
I would just like to say how proud I am of my lovely wife tonight. Six months after starting ballet lessons, and just three days after the fourth session of her latest chemotherapy, she has just danced in The Nutcracker ballet. Not a huge role, it has to be said, but nonetheless, a dancing role. Not just that, but she danced it three times this weekend.
We all just came back from the performance, and I admit that I was in tears from the first I set eyes on her. Frocked up and looking good and confident, she danced a little storm in my heart once again. Her daughter Tess, at ten years of age, and after only 2½ years of taking ballet, has studied for three roles this year, and danced two of them. She is the apple of my eye, the right eye. The left belongs to Christine.
Occasionally, Christine will ask me why I love her. Well, my love, let me tell you exactly why. You fight hard, enjoy life and play wonderfully. Light on your feet, light of heart, you continue to entrance me.
Dearest Christine,
I found this today, 4th October, in my drafts. I imagine that I was going to expand on it, but never did. I suppose that in its own way, it was already complete. Years ago I had made a promise that I would dance with you in The Nutcracker, and I did, in 2011. I had a lot of fun doing so, loved it, and loved those two dances with you. Now I am planning to do the same this year, in honour of both you and Tess.
This is for you, the woman who learned to dance on pointe shoes whilst undergoing chemotherapy. You, with whom our every move in the kitchen seemed like choreography, the woman whose smile could fill a room. That is why I still love you.
I have bought ballet shoes, in your memory. I think of you every day, and talk of you often. I miss you very much, and am glad that we got to dance together in so many ways, for as long as we did.
There is a picture of the two of us dancing, here.
Fuck you Google for making the sharing of a simple url to a picture so sodding difficult.