We are blessed with many friends. One couple in particular has taught our family (and several others) things that we would probably have never learned. For instance, twice they have brought a group of families together and taught us how to make Ukrainian Easter eggs...the ones with the bright colors and very intricate patterns. (I tell you, you haven't lived until you've had 17 children and 7 adults dying eggs in your home using a process that includes very intense dyes, open flames, and raw eggs.) But recently we have eschewed the dangers of egg dying for something tamer...ballroom dancing.
Not only do our friends create lovely eggs, but they are terrific dancers. And more importantly, are able to teach the rest of us how to dance. So, we have had several dancing nights. Five or six families all meet together to eat and dance. What's even better, is our older children have also been participating and are turning into pretty decent dancers. Last Saturday, we learned the waltz, foxtrot, jitterbug, salsa, and tango. I'm not sure which was more enjoyable...actually learning how to do these dances or watching my children learn the dances. How sweet is it to watch one's 15 year old daughter and nearly 13 year old son waltzing together and having a good time? Or watching father and daughter? And I definitely start to feel a bit weepy over being able to dance with my son (who is now taller than I) and who is quite the able dance partner. (B did chide me once for trying to lead.) A was also out there dancing, although at 10, the dancing is still accompanied by nearly continuous giggling.
It's times like this that I wish I could bottle. When everyone is happy and healthy and enjoying each others company. I know that moments such as these are fleeting and rarer than I would like. Moments where one experiences joy at just being a family together, without outside interruptions and worries. Moments when nothing more is needed than good friends, some music, and an empty room.