Dancing in the Clouds

I hope, as a kid, you took advantage of time to stare up at the clouds. Oh, I certainly did. The clouds are so fascinating to me. The sky magically frees the imagination. Whether lying in the back seat of the car on a road trip (seatbelts not required), looking out of the airplane window, or floating on the lake with the sky framed by mountains, I was up there dancing or ice skating through the fluffy uncharted - choreographing my own routine, conducting my own music, performing to my own audience.

When my mom passed away in 2019, I beckoned the clouds while also asking for forgiveness for not visiting for several years. Sadly, I think that happens often as adults forget to take time to imagine. “Dear Clouds, please send me a message that my mom is up there with you dancing.” For days and days, I laid on our trampoline looking up. Something about the slight and gentle bounce made me feel I was a child again in my mom’s arms. “Send me something, Clouds, please.” I imagined her up their dancing. The Jitterbug precisely. She taught me how to Jitterbug and we jittered many a time at family celebrations. Oh, so fun. “Rainy,” I would say (her nickname). “Are you there, Rainy? Are you dancing? Is your heart light and your soul full? Can you see me down here?”

There! There she is. Hearts, angel wings, the face of a cherub. “Thank you, Rainy. I love you. I miss you.”

Take time to stare up at the clouds every chance you get. Please? I promise you’ll float, and you’ll drift, and you’ll skate, and you’ll dream, and you’ll dance, and you’ll dance, and you’ll dance.