Joy. Euphoria. Enthusiasm. Where did it go? Did life get in the way? When, I wondered, did I lose the urge to sing out loud? I decided to withdraw. I quit my job. I intended to find out where that happy gene went.

The first thing I did was to look for the happy child that was. I crawled up into the attic and pulled down my cardboard box of albums filled with antique photos. There I was in old black and white's sporting a silly, crooked grin. Memories flooded my mind of living in Chicago in this old brick, horseshoe shaped apartment building where I once laughed loudly as a kid.

I remembered I had a wonderful dream in those innocent days around ten years old. It was to be a dancer. Just like the famous dancer of the day, Cyd Charisse. I thought she was the most beautiful, wonderful dancer ever! Alone in my room, I would attach the hook of the wire hangar that held my school blazer to the string of the light above. I would dance with my coat, as if Fred Astaire himself were leading me across a dance floor. I'd tilt my head back and twirl under the sleeve of my coat as if I were Cyd. Bedtime would come and I'd have to put my coat back in the closet. I'd put my jammies on and hop into my little twin bed. For awhile, I might pick my nose, and then smile to myself knowing I was going to grow up to be just like Cyd, and fall into a blissful slumber.

After a couple years went by, my legs didn't grow to be so long, I never did develop breasts, and raging acne struck. Dancing lessons were just a little too expensive for my folks. Could this have been the turning point? I suspect so. But, there, I found a place in time where possibly, that's when my joy started to slowly chip away.

I managed to marry and produced the two human beings that were to be the purpose of my life (a joy of a different kind) and marry again an awesome man. As much as it all meant, it seemed I still had never quite recaptured the ecstasy of my ten year old self. And that is a mission in motion right now. With all my heart, my intent is to once again feel that childish joy. It was time to start where I left off.

I have this suitcoat, one of the ones I used to wear to work. It's a black blazer that used to hang in my closet. It now hangs from a string I attached to the light fixture in my office at home. When I start feeling myself missing my kids or my grandkids or feeling that something missing, I dance. And I am Cyd Charisse.

Learn more about this author, Donna Muszynski.
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