A Violet Dance

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. I stood watching them on the roof, waiting, as the sky slowly brightened to reveal its most beautiful spectacle. The lateness of night didn’t bother me. I blinked away sleep from my eyes. For tonight was a special night.

I watched in awe and reverence as the first violet dancers swayed in the sky. Glowing a radiant violet as they took form, turning the heavens into their own ballroom. I stood ready in my dress, waiting for my partner to show. She finally came, shining in hues of lilac and rose. I was overjoyed to see her, and took my stance. Ready to dance along.

I remembered my grandmother, and how she would dance too. We would often stay up on occasion waiting for the sky to turn together. Dressed in fine clothes, my grandmother would rise, and take her place.

She would say it was her love. Called him by his name, her hands outstretched as if embracing him once more as they danced. And when her legs could carry her no longer, she would sit in silence. The longing in her eyes, moving her fingers as she would her feet. Instead she would sing, as he danced for her in the sky.

I would watch in wonder, smiling but never truly understanding. I would dance with misshapen silhouettes with glee, not noticing the yearning in my grandmother’s eyes. I could never see what she saw; until now.

Now my grandparents danced together, and I with them.

Violet met pale pink, as their figures swayed to the music of the night. The gentle sound of palm trees brushing against each other in the tropical wind. The tree frogs, who sang their sweet melody for the heavenly dancers up above. The distant chime of laughter, as others joined in from their own homes. My bare feet shuffled, as they moved atop the cool roof.

They moved on their own accord. Dancing to the rhythm they learned from my grandmother all those years ago. I followed her lead. Me on the roof and her in the sky. It was like I was a child once again. A step here, a twirl there. We moved seamlessly together, gleeful laughter bursting from my chest.

No one knew how this came to be, only that it has always been. A way to see those departed take shape. To dance with them once again, as in life. To remind ourselves that their love was still with us, even from far away. And as the dance went on, I was reminded of her love, and her embrace.

I was reminded of all those precious with my grandmother. Our laughter as with dance with each other under a blushing sky. Soft conversations under a star dotted sky, as we waited for that beautiful midnight hour. Tears streamed down my face as I dance, and my heart felt lighter.

Night was slowly coming to an end. The bright pinks and purples, made way to reds and oranges of the approaching dawn. The figures in the sky vanished one by one. The pale glimmering sun slowly rose where familiar clouds had once danced. The radiant dancer that was my grandmother was turning shapeless, and dull grey. And it felt like I was losing once again. I outstretched my hands once again, stretching on my toes in the futile hope of touching her one last time. When she was gone, it grew quiet again. I waved to early morning sky and with a tearful smile, whispered.

“Hasta luego, abuelita.”