"Heart" is an excellent dancer.
Dancers have always fascinated me. Not those jiggying to cheesy trashy pieces of noise, but those able to perfectly co-ordinate their feet, arms, posture and personality to the rhythm of a melody that elevates the soul.
I am not a good dancer. I cannot dance to save my life. I wish I could. I really do.
But I do try to move along with the music of life, although I think I am quite awkward at it. Sometimes I move too fast. At other times, I falter in the steps, or I stumble. I fall out of sync with the tempo of life. I get tired easily too. I drag my feet, let my arms hang loose. The music inevitably carries on while I sit at the steps looking on, no more dancing, only watching.
But "Heart" dances right on, swirling with grace, lithe on her toes, nimble in her movements, a calm smile playing at the corners of her mouth. No odd note can throw her off. She is completely unfazed by life's high pitch or its low tone. She moves like a swan, always busy, always working, yet poised like royalty, serene in her beauty.
Yes, "Heart" is an excellent dancer. She dances to every tune of life. And not only her life. Sometimes she dances to the music of other people's lives too, including mine.
It is no coincidence that 5 months ago, she was the one who held me while I cried. No coincidence at all. No one else, I repeat, no one else, could have been in that place at that moment. Not my mother, or father, or sister or any other friend or lover. It had to be her. Alhamdulillah for that.
Cancer had entered my life then. But it was not mine only. In so many ways, my carcinoma had infiltrated her life too. Cancer may have chosen my left breast as a sleeping place, but it was "Heart"'s heart that it laid its head on.
I could (and probably should) write about those first initial days of cancer. But not tonight.
Tonight, I want to write about dancing. Because in those initial days, "Heart" danced. She moved swiftly, confidently, beautifully, sometimes with her shadow in tow, researching, learning, enquiring, listening, talking, providing, arranging, managing. Not a bad back, lack of sleep, three monkeys waiting for her, missed meals, family depending on her, work calling for her stopped her. Nothing stopped her. She danced on. And she is still dancing, effortlessly, tirelessly.
It's been 5 months now. Thinking about it, I realise that I have really never been alone with my cancer. My Merciful Lord knows that I could not have walked this path alone. So He sent me a dance floor full of people to dance with me on this journey. And dancing centre stage has and still is "Heart". An excellent dancer.
How can I thank her? How do I even begin to thank her?
My Sweet Lord, please help me. For I cannot find the means nor the words. I really cannot.