Month: July 2015

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #116

abby mumford

7.6.15

Other than 1-2 years (or more I really don’t remember) of childhood ballet, jazz, and tap, I have little dance history. I went to this class to shake up my workout routine. The aerobics floor was packed and I only caught glimpses of myself in the mirror, but what I could see was abysmal. I was so focused on the teacher, I forgot what I actually looked like during the routines. I absolutely didn’t mirror her fluid movements. I was stilted and awkward and off-beat and dizzy, but my heart was pumping and adrenaline (from the embarrassment) was flowing.

Me: I’m sorry I’m in front of you and you have to deal with my un-coordination.

Her: Oh, don’t even worry about it. I’m the same. I’m so busy trying to follow the teacher, I haven’t noticed anyone else.

Me: Sometimes, I have to stand here and laugh because I do not get these moves.

Her: Me too. It takes a minute to catch on.

Amidst the thumping bass and swirling hips, two white girls got their hip hop dance moves going. Well, I tried REALLY hard. It was difficult to follow along, not bump into anyone, keep the beat, loosen my shoulders, swivel my hips, and look natural. The only thing natural about me was the sweat.

feelings

daughter

abby mumford

Due to the down time between camp ending and work ending, a coworker’s child was in the office. I overheard the introduction, “This is my daughter” and I saw the small quirk of a smile from the little girl.

I thought about how my parents have full, busy lives and how they balance that with being parents to adult children and grandparents to young children and how they still provide love, advice, support, and money and how they travel and dream and do and how I have a full, busy life and how I balance that with being a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend and how I travel and dream and plan, but haven’t quite mastered the bravery part. I still have some things to learn from them.

I thought how much my smile has grown exponentially (from then to now) whenever my parents introduce me. It bears the fruit of hindsight and clarity and gratitude and love. I wish there was a “take your adult child to work day” because I want to see what they do all day and I want to hear all the accolades their coworkers have for them.

Daughter is a label I wear proudly and I want more opportunities to brag about my parents.