Dancing Granny

You get some incredibly, amazingly, wonderfully fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?


The news was incredible!  Hard to take in, hard to process.  The moment would stay etched on her brain and in her heart until the day she died.

When she was a child, she would have jumped up and down and clapped her hands, dancing all over the room. Her face would have been covered by her smile, her eyes shining with joy.

But there wasn’t any Tigger left in her tank, and although the joy was still just as consuming, she had become quieter with age. So she smiled, and she grew deeply, intensely quiet.  Her eyes still shot out happy sparks, but there was no dancing.

Although, with the ginormous needle of cortisone the doctor put in her hip yesterday, maybe there could be a little dancing.  Just a little.