The last night of my family holiday in Lanzarote was one of an unexpected, rather magical nature.
I don’t pretend to always get along with my dad like a house on fire- the house might as well be on fire when the two of us get a ‘B’ in our bonnet’s about something and decide to have a battle of who can be the most stubborn and petty! Yes, you get the picture, we don’t see eye to eye all the time BUT that last night, it was like I was transported back in time. I was 3 years old again, only much more appreciative and grateful for that particular moment. I’ll expand…
There was an ABBA tribute band performing at the hotel towards the later hours of the night. I adore ABBA, think they’re absolutely fabulous and so naturally, was desperate to listen to a few of the classics- Mamma Mia, Super Trouper, you know, the usual drill. My Mum and brother weren’t so keen on the idea and went for a night cap on the balcony, but Dad said he was up for checking it out.The stage was outside and seats were filled with avid ABBA fans such as myself. We sat quite a way back from everyone (mostly because I hate sitting in massive crowds) and enjoyed, along with the rest of the spectators, thanking ABBA for the music.
It was during Fernando that I noticed an elderly couple slow dancing on their balcony. My eyes immediately filled (ABBA makes me really soppy). There’s something about elderly couples that chokes me up, you know, gives me a lump in my throat and makes me want to watch The Notebook and listen to Nat King Cole. That love they have for each other has triumphed over a life of trials and tribulations. It has encountered turmoil and suffering, yet has endured. For me, elderly couples are concrete proof that love – and I mean REAL LOVE, exists; the kind that will have you arguing over the television channel one minute and dancing cheek to cheek the next….
I pointed them out to my Dad who needed only this as a nudge to actually ask me if I wanted to dance! I haven’t danced with my Dad since I was young enough to stand on his feet and not break his toes!
The most magical moment of the holiday lay in this moment. Within that 3 minute rendition of Fernando, I remembered that I had always been and will always be, a Daddy’s girl.