It’s been a long time since I published a blog, lots has been happening and sadly after spending nearly a year in and out of intense care, my mum died just over six months ago. Although our relationship was not always easy, it stopped me in my tracks…

A week after returning from my mum’s funeral in Germany, I drove to my studio to finally start working on outstanding orders. It was raining and I tried to find a car park close by. I kept circling, but couldn’t find an empty space anywhere. I kept crawling along the neighbouring streets, which lead me further away every time I turned another corner.

Suddenly I found myself near a gym, where two years earlier I once or twice attended a samba class, but had to give it up as I was too busy with work at the time. It felt as if I was driven there. When I arrived, I went inside to enquire if Marta’s class was still happening and was surprised to be told that it would start in twenty minutes. As I had some trainers in the car, I decided to participate there and then.

Just before the class started, Marta took off the pink shawl she was wearing over her shoulders and placed it on the floor in the middle of the dance studio. I didn’t know what was going on and it looked like some of the other dancers were also puzzled. Marta raised her hand asking everyone to be quiet and she explained with tears in her eyes, that today’s dance lesson was a special celebration for her friend and student, who died of cancer last week and who had been part of her class for over ten years.

I stood frozen in my spot unable to stop crying. Marta saw me, came over and gave me a big hug and I explained that I had lost my mum only three weeks earlier. She then announced that today’s class will be dedicated for her student and my mum and I danced and cried for nearly two hours. Afterwards, all these lovely people I had danced with, complete strangers, came up to me and hugged me or shook my hand.

At that moment I realised how wonderful it is that when you let go of something, eventually you find a place that feels like home.

One thought on “DANCING WITH MARTA

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