Dances. They’re Not Just Songs.

Last week, I sobbed in the bathroom while trying to suggest father-daughter dances to my dad.  I don’t know if that was something I was supposed to do, but it seemed like an easy thing to check off the list: Find song to dance with Dad; simple check mark, right?  I came across Lullaby by Billy Joel, and just broke down.  I’d not spoken with my dad about whether or not he wanted to do the father-daughter dance; and I feel like I was out of left field in my email:

Hey, Daddy. I’m not sure if you have a song you’ve been waiting three decades to dance with one of your daughters to, but if you do, please let me know.  Otherwise, here are three suggestions from me. Siempre, April

For all I know, he might have one selected for my sister as she was supposed to get married first (culturally), but didn’t want to use the same song twice; and as the second daughter, I’m left out. Or I’m a terrible romantic and he’s never really thought about it.  Do fathers think about this stuff?  Or does the wedding thought process end at walking down the aisle, arm in arm with your baby girl?  You pull back the veil, and pass her over to the gentleman she’s been living with for two years.  No biggie.  Job done, dust your hands off, sir, and sit down.  Enjoy the homily.

In middle school was truly the one time I paid attention to what song was played for the father-daughter dance.  My friend’s older sister was getting married, and she selected Daddy’s Hands as the song.  The chorus stuck with me because it seemed harsh, inappropriate, and just wrong…  Daddy’s hands were soft and gentle when I was cryin’; Daddy’s hands were hard as steel when I’d done wrong; Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle…. With this song in my head, I went in search of the song for us, but paying extreme attention to the lyrics.  I don’t need to think about corporal punishment while my dad waltzes me around the floor.  Listening to lyrics is something Ryan has stressed when it comes to dance songs at the wedding.  Many songs seem great, right tempo, right sound, but the lyrics are highly off-key.

Ryan has picked out our first dance song.  And I admit I think he brought it up on our third date or somewhere very close to that time.  We danced to it in his kitchen in Lakewood.

The other song we’ve selected is our remembrance song…  I’m 97% sure I’ve just made this particular song up.  At my godsister’s wedding, they had a candle with the names (of the family members who were unable to attend because they aren’t here any more.  Our florist is creating a memorial arrangement for these folks, tying in elements the groomsmen’s boutonnieres, the bridesmaids’ bouquets, and the mothers’ corsages.  And we’re playing a song to force a moment of silence for my niece, mother, Ryan’s aunt, and grandfather.  This song is Through My Prayers by the Avett Brothers.

No, we’re not dancing to it.  But it’s still a song that is going to be played.

So back to me sitting in the loo, crying while Billy Joel sings about how he’ll never be far away.  One of the last gifts I received from my mother was a little picture book with the lyrics from I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack.  She loved that song; the litany of to-dos for a mother to say to a child.  We weren’t very big on the emotional communication in the Gosling household; we knew we were loved unconditionally, and it just wasn’t verbal; it was more like warm blanket that enveloped us in winter and a cool breeze in the short summer months in Michigan.  It was comfortable and comforting.  And Mom used several songs to communicate with us: Cat’s Cradle was another popular one.

Lyrics gave us what we were thinking but couldn’t say.

(Tangentially, I once watched an interview with Prince Charles.  He was well spoken until the interviewer asked something personal and an answer would have involved emotions; he blushed and refused to answer it.  It was at that point I realized how deeply the proper British mindset was steeped into my family.)

In a family that grew up on Jim Croce and CSN, what a song says has always been important.  Two days after I emailed him, my dad replied with his choice of the three.  It wasn’t the Billy Joel song, so there is a very healthy chance I won’t be a crying mess for the two minutes of the song.