Dancing Through

Thomas Rhett and saying yes to unknown joy

It was wild in the kitchen. I was hurrying to unload the dishwasher and fill it again with a pile of dishes from the sink before my toddler granddaughter noticed and came to “help” by swiping at knives and throwing her small body into the pool of milk, gravy, and marinara sauce that was collecting at the bottom. Laughter and conversation filled the room as big people and small people made their way through the house. The dining room table had been turned into a ping pong table, and there was something of a tournament going on in there.

I knew I’d need Advil by the end of it all, but there in the moment, I kind of loved the chaos of this weekend gathering. Though I have come to appreciate the simple rhythm of life right now with just Dan, me, and two teenage boys living here, some days are too simple. Too quiet. I clean the kitchen and it stays clean. I do a load of laundry every few days and it’s enough. People just drive themselves to the places they need to be. There are too many leftovers and too few interruptions.

As I scooped up my granddaughter one more time and hit the start button on the dishwasher, I heard the beginning of a song come over the Bluetooth speaker in a corner of the kitchen. I could barely make it out through all the noise, but I recognized it. 

It was “Ya Heard” by Thomas Rhett. I loved this song when it came out a few years ago, and I love it even more now because it has a happy memory attached. Juliette and Gabe picked it for their wedding song that same year, and when they danced to it, I did what mothers of the bride are supposed to do–I cried. It’s a beautiful thing to watch two kids dance with joy on their big day, a beautiful afternoon in late May, surrounded by friends and family. Surrounded by love. With tear-streaked cheeks, I watched two young people, who had no idea what lay ahead, leap at the chance to say YES to it together.

I knew that feeling. It’s a feeling I’ve thought about many times over the course of the ups and downs of life these past almost-30 years. How clueless Dan and I were at the start of it all, and yet how much that didn’t matter. So many things we didn’t know, and yet we could not wait to start finding out. How hazy the details were as we shouted YES into the unknown, YES to everything that lay ahead.

I balanced my granddaughter on my hip and stood in the kitchen, listening to the song. I’ve held so many babies like this, right here in this place. I’ve held babies and toddlers, I’ve helped with spelling words and argued with teens, all while stirring pots, draining spaghetti, wiping up messes, and loading the dishwasher through every kind of change, every kind of sorrow, disappointment, pain, and discouragement, but also every kind of joy. So many of which we could not have known.

As the song played on, I peered into the next room and saw Juliette there. She wasn’t listening to the music. She was rummaging through a diaper bag as she held a baby of her own. Agnes was one of blessings we did not yet know on that sunny, springtime afternoon. And yet I almost feel like we did. We did know something about the hard things and also the so-very-good things that lay ahead, and that was why I cried.

I watched as Juliette found a package of wipes, pulled a few from the package, and cleaned Agnes’s tiny face and hands, pausing once in a while to give her a kiss. There, in the midst of noise and commotion, Agnes locked eyes with her pretty young mama. She gurgled, squealed, and then smiled with her entire body, bursting with uncontained joy. 

Juliette didn’t hear the song, but from where I stood, I saw her dancing still. 🤍

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