My mom was a vibrant, kind, giving, loving, passionate sensual woman who loved to dance. Music was playing in my house constantly. She allowed room for all of her 5 children to enjoy their own kind of music. Our record player, on the same day, would host the sounds of Dolly Parton for my country-loving sister, to England Dan and John Ford Coley or Doris Day for my mom or Rush for my brother. She may not have liked it all, all of the time but she freely allowed our own expression. Music was of course for singing, but what stirred her soul was to dance.
She cut a rug in the kitchen almost every day, dishes rarely were done on any family occasion without dancing in the kitchen. When the grandchildren arrived they all danced held tight to her bosom until they could dance on her feet.
Weddings and family occasions were where she shone, she, her girls, and her boy would be on the dance floor from the beginning of the night until the end, barefoot and kickin it!! There were very few songs that sat her down. If a slow song came on, she’d either find a man….he didn’t have to be single, or she would enlist her son or one of her girls.
She was single in her 40’s so she would be out dancing at the same bars as my older brother and sister…… because she could.
As a child when we would go out for dinner she would prefer if the restaurant had live music and a dance floor, something you don’t really see anymore. Just her and I for dinner so just her and I on the dancefloor. She didn’t know it, but she lit up the room, and it lit up her heart.
Sadly only one companion in her life was ever a great dancer and loved to dance as much as her, their time together was short-lived it was amazing to watch her glide across the dance floor with him. Someone who could lead, instead of her leading them.
My mother died at the young age of 78, hell I thought she’d live forever! But her body died years before. Not one to ever take care of herself, far too busy making sure the world was right for everyone around her, and years of walking the floors as a nurse wreaked havoc on her body years before her actual death. In the last few years of her life when the music played at family functions she would get up for one or two songs and try, but then have to sit down because of her knees or the fact that she was completely out of breath.
Finally, the day came about a year before she died, she never got up to dance, she swayed in her chair, eyes closed and tapped her fingers and patted her legs and watched, watched with the longing of her younger body. What was also in her eyes was the joy of the dance, the joy of the years when she danced like no one was watching, the joy of watching her girls still dance together. There may have been longing in her eyes, but there was no regret.
When life asks you to dance…say yes!!
Life is just too dam short not to DANCE!!