To Live is to Dance

(A daughter's reflection: my dad's loss of a friend "closer than a brother".)
--inspired by Ecclesiastes 3:4, Romans 12:15, and I Corinthians 15:53-55--

On our wedding day, Rick and Bonnie gave us THE card.  The one I still remember.  It was perfect, not only because it encouraged us to embrace joy but because it was a mirror image of the Schmitts, both literally and figuratively.  The front was a fuzzy image of a couple dancing.  Then, simply stated on the inside, was the phrase "Enjoy the dance". 
My mind returns to the months before we tied the knot.  Hours spent in the basement of their home.  A basement remodeled to fit a dance floor:  complete with wood floors, a wall of mirrors, and a sitting room for the "danced out" (which was a title never claimed by Rick).  It was here where I found amazement and inspirational joy in two unique, defining relationships. 
It's as if time is frozen.  Sitting on my living room couch, I still hear the joking banter between Rick and my dad, I see the jumbled missteps of 'most of us' versus the gentle, elegant glide of a silver haired, giant-statured Rick and his petite dark-haired Bonnie, and I witness again, the adoring gaze of a wife loved for life by her man.  In that moment, my thoughts were 'I want that look to be mine.  To see my husband as a lifelong dance partner, who leads me quietly but oh, so well.'  You could read her thoughts as if they were written in the air, a backdrop bearing her soul. 
While basement dancing, I also realized what my heart had known for a long time:  my dad had the privilege of a dear, dear friend.  A friend who joked, danced, played, and shared with him.  Sometimes, I had to shake my head to focus on the fact that the two of them were really grown men versus boys at play.  And, that was a gift.  In the rush of the daily, you don't always have time to notice a friendship grown in the soil of God's grace, soccer fields, and shared goals (family, vocation, following God, heart focus).  For me, the view was sweet:  my daddy alongside a true friend, a kindred spirit.  It was watching Rick and my dad where Proverbs 18:24 became a reality:  'A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother'.  Obviously, Dad and Rick had other friends.  And, the term 'family man' was a ringer for both of them.  Yet, by God's grace, at least for my dad, I can say his circle of close friends was small, and Rick's presence made up a big chunk of that circle.
And so, our wedding day arrived and our dance coaches stood just outside the parquet floor, eyes sparkling, still giving pointers through subtle body gestures, almost as if they were trying to dance through us (or was it FOR us? haha).  A Daddy and his daughter managed to make "My Girl" come to life through the dance rehearsed for hours upon hours in the Schmitt basement.  I remember my dad's laughter when he missed a step and Rick's full faced encouraging grin (or was it a grimace?) from the sidelines.  The dances are what I remember most about our reception.  Interwoven through it all was the image of Rick and Bonnie dancing.  However, the picture in my head was not from the reception.  (Though dance they did, and they showed us all how it was done!)  It was the everyday moments, the basement images, which continued to resurface.  After our wedding, I had the privilege of seeing the Schmitts dance on several occasions.  Every time, they amazed me with their skill and the glide in their steps, but it was always how they looked at one another, which managed to take my breath away.
In short, they taught us dance steps.  Then, in the day to day, Rick and Bonnie showed us about living to dance in each moment, in friendship, and in marriage.  They taught us how sometimes it's about the salsa or it might be just the right instant for a waltz.  Then again, you might just have to jive.  Some moments, lots of moments, are about practice.  The nitty gritty, sweaty, injury laden, frustration infused, seemingly unimportant, which end up being some of the most important moments for a dancer.  But, to live is dance, and it's worth it.  In the down times, a classic slow dance can be 'a perfect fit'.  Regardless, dancing, through every instance, is the only way to go.  And, it's the enjoying part, the living to God's glory, which really matters. 
And now, here I sit.  Tears have found a home in streams down my cheeks.  My heart feels lost between reality and yesterday.  Initially, the tears are in the missing.  But they've grown into blinding pain for Rick's family, the Schmitts.  Loss of a loved one is difficult.  It's the loss of those who completely take your breath away with how they lived life as a dance, how they loved well, how they befriended, how they laughed, how they were so much, how they gave, and now, how they've left such a big hole in this lifetime's recital...this is the loss which grips your heart and won't let go.       
As the tears fall, they are coupled with thoughts of my dad and how blessed he was to share a friendship with Rick.  Looking back they shared so much:  passion for soccer, football, softball...sports in general, commitment to family, adoration of their girls, intense pride for their boys, overwhelming love for their wife, Competitive spirits (capital 'c' being purposeful), senses of humor that are actually funny, contagious laughter, eyes that sparkle...With all these commonalities, they shared one concept as most important:  Jesus Christ.  This passion for a Savior, was a guide for the steps taken in their lives and for their friendship.  It is for this, which I am most thankful.
In all honesty, I don't understand why Rick's departure was now versus years from now.  I don't understand why he was taken from his family, why his role as husband, father, grandpa was seemingly cut short.  I don't understand why my dad had to lose a friend who was more than you would ever expect in friendship.  I'm left with I don't know. 
However, I do know the time Rick was here was a blessing for whomever's life he touched.  I do know my dad feels God's grace beyond measure to be able to say he not only knew but loved Rick as a brother.  I know Rick's commitment to Christ will cause the God he served to be glorified through his death.  I know Rick has victory over cancer and death.  As I sit here caught between the "don't knows" and the "I knows", I am truly thankful for Rick and for his family being willing to share him with my daddy. 
And, finally, I do know we will see Rick again one day...still living for the Dance.