On Sunday my beautiful 13 year old grand-daughter attended and danced at her very first ballroom dancing competition. She looked beautiful in her new black shoes, and her apricot top and black flippy skirt. She didn’t place out of the 5 couples dancing, but that didn’t matter, to her or to us, the fact that she found the courage to get up and dance after only a term of weekly lessons was in itself a miracle.
She proved to herself and to that moronic teacher (see my post here) that she could indeed keep time, learn the steps and have the self confidence to do it in front of a couple of hundred strangers. To her wonderful instructor Callum, thank you for taking her under your wing and for the beautiful way you encouraged her on the day. To my daughter Aimee who beamed with pride, I know you do it tough and most of us don’t outwardly acknowledge that, but I am proud of your perseverance too, I know dealing with a brain-injured daughter is not easy but it is with your love that this miracle has come to pass.