After the wedding ceremony was over and most of the hors d’oevres had been eaten, we all progressed into the banquet room for dinner and dancing. The wedding party, formally introduced, came in and went immediately to the dance floor to dance the horah and a variety of other klezmer inspired group dances. Everyone got up to join them.
My mother is in a wheel chair, her ability to move in the world incredibly compromised by Parkinson’s. The grandmother of the bride, my mother’s older sister, lives in an assisted living facility with dementia. She was also in a wheel chair as well as a neck brace, having broken her neck in a recent fall.
Spontaneously my sister pushed my mother, and I pushed my aunt into the center of the spirited dancing. Spinning, twirling, to the right, to the left— my mother and my aunt laughing, clapping, smiling. The bride at first was nervous with their inclusion, but very quickly opened to their presence as did all present. The sisters, both seated and pushing, were graceful, daring, filled with joy to be a part of the energy on the dance floor and with each other.
My mother and my aunt were elegant– my sister and I merely the pilots of their unencumbered exuberance.