Dances and Rhythms - 4

Dances and Rhythms - 4

     "This is the first time I ever remember sharing closeness with a female member of my own family, and well, it's also my first really good look at myself.  I must be beautiful too!"  Bertie's acceptance of my innocent appreciation and hunger for feminine solidarity brought a rush of tears.

     At the sound of my crying, Helen peered out from behind her slacks.  Then, in a direct voice as if commanding an army, Bertie said, "Helen, take off your bra!"  Helen's eyes widened, her Lutheran modesty quickened.  She looked at me, then Bertie, and with one quick move of her hands, rose up bare-breasted.  "There, it's off.  Now which one of us is bigger?" Helen shook her breasts with a forced boldness. I was ecstatic, prancing about the room like a giddy child.  After forty-four years of wandering without a sense of family or identity, it was suddenly before me.  I stared wide-eyed at my blood sisters' gracious show of flesh, deeply satisfied with the glimpse they had given me of myself.  That day we shared a remarkable trinity - three sisters caught up in a rare and private bond.  The next time I take an African Dance Aerobics class, I hope to sink even lower into the drum's beat and enjoy my own rhythm as it tickles me from the tip of my spine to the bottom of my soul. The rhythm of our parents' lives, however, was quite different from my own...