Journal Entry May 8, 1995 Hangzhou, China Monday morning, 5:00am Second night with Hannah

You and I just had a wonderful dance. It was like a melting dance where we were so close, our cheeks touching, no words, nobody else anywhere. The music for the dance was whispered to us from within. Only we needed to hear it at 5:00am. Your mom was asleep on her bed while we danced. Eleven steps forward, turn, eleven steps back. From the chair by the window to the door of the hotel room, we danced. At first, we weren't quite together, making adjustments, my right arm supporting you and my left arm patting you on your small back.

You made your soft noises, the ones you make after a full meal. After all, we did have an unscheduled 6 ounces just an hour ago. But it wasn't enough for you. You wanted more of something. It was not sleep you wanted, but something more immediate. A dry diaper was provided, the kind with the sticky tape, no pins. In the darkness, I stuck the tape to you. But we finally got it right and I put you to bed thinking we were finished. I didn't know we needed to dance. But you knew and kept protesting that somehow we were not finished.

Eleven steps forward. Turn. Eleven steps back. We were getting our rhythms together now. I could feel your tiny body relax, your head drifted loosely. I moved my left hand and cupped your head in support. We danced. Cheek to cheek now, almost like one person.

Then I recognized who we were. I was your daddy. Your were my daughter. You were totally relaxed, breathing in a steady rhythm to our music. My eyes filled as I realized the moment. We extended the dance for a long time.

Eleven steps forward to the door. Turn. Eleven steps return to the chair. Your are my partner now. We will dance again and again.

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