To Dance Again

Today I am grateful for my husband Darcy's safe travels this week. I am also grateful for the feel of new carpet under my feet and the warming temperatures outside.

"To dance again" could, figuratively speaking, be referring to Minnesotans being ready to dance again as it appears spring may actually be here to stay. We are supposed to see temperatures in the 70's this weekend. We will also see plenty of untanned arms and legs. We will not be self-conscious about it because we will be busy reveling in the outdoors. And we will be grateful for those arms and legs.

For Boston bombing victim Adrianne Haslet-Davis "to dance again" literally is her hope, her plan. Despite losing her left foot five inches below the knee, she intends to get back to her passion-ballroom dancing and being a dance instructor. Though not a runner either, she has given herself another goal-run the Boston Marathon.

I find her story and her outlook to be heartening. You can view her interview with CNN's Anderson Cooper and the accompanying print story here. We are only seeing seven minutes of interview coverage, but it is enough to show that her perspective on an awful, awful event in her life is one to be respected. Her and her husband were barely five feet from the second bomb. They know they could be dead or more gravely injured. They know they got help quickly and effectively. They know they still have each other.

I love this quote from Haslet-Davis: "Dancing is the one thing that I do, that when I do it I don't feel like I should be doing anything else." That is how I feel about running. With words like that coming from her heart, I believe she will dance again.

A seven-minute video can't relay what her 24-hour days are like. Undoubtedly, there's shock, and grief, and many challenges lie ahead for her. Cooper asks her if she's angry and she says "Yeah, I'm angry. I'm not angry 100% of the time, but I'm angry."

I think the "not 100% of the time" is the key.  It allows a little gratitude in, which allows some hope to build.