time gone by

 Yesterday afternoon and evening was my granddaughters dance recital. We attended both shows, of course. It was a long day of " culture " and refinement for this old boy. It is with amazement that you see your granddaughter mature before your very eyes. I watched her in her very first dance recital, she danced to " I'm a little tea pot " and " how much is that doggy in the window " now she is dancing a Beatles classic. The image is different when on stage. I mean I see her almost every day and just love her as my granddaughter. Just a little girl, but not so much that way on stage. It is like watching a butterfly emerge from it's cocoon. There are moments when I'm bursting with pride and others when I feel sorrow, the sorrow of time gone by. But that time is in contrast to the hope for the future. The future holds a bright and talented young lady, I can see that clearly and that is the source of my pride. Bittersweet is the only word that adequately describes my feelings.
 I remember well taking her first ballet slippers and putting them in a shadow box. I included a picture of her and a flower. How many dances since then ? I can't say a number, but can recall each performance. How far she has traveled in the quest to dance. Now she does her own hair and makeup, an indicator of maturity. She is growing as she should and it is too fast. The little ballerina has been replaced on the stage but that ballerina exists in my heart. I see that dancer in her eyes and in her smile. She very well may be daddys' little girl but she is grandpa's ballerina !