Mom would've loved it; Dad not so much. Tonight my husband and I started taking a ballroom dance class. For the next five weeks, we'll learn the Cha Cha, the Foxtrot, the Waltz, and who knows what else. My younger daughter said maybe her father will finally learn some rhythm. I have to love him for trying. My dad is a good dancer, light on his feet, but nothing fancy or complicated. I loved watching my parents dance the two-step, not b/c they were the best couple on the floor but b/c they moved w/ a single motion that only comes from years of devotion. I'm sure they didn't start out that way just as my husband and I didn't. It helped when I stopped trying to lead. At receptions and dances, Mom saved the fast dances for me. We'd twirl around the dance floor just as she'd spun me around the kitchen. When I was in my first high school play my freshman year, we did a 50's musical called, Rock Hop. Mom made my poodle skirt and taught me how to do The Jitterbug and The Stroll. Seeing her turn to one side and lean-in as she stepped forward comes as easily as closing my eyes. She made me the envy of my cast mates, both for my skirt and my steps.
I have to add a postscript to tonight's post. My older daughter came home w/ a prom dress she's borrowing from a friend. As she modeled it for us, I noticed the hook-and-eye at the top of the zipper needed to be repaired, and I immediately thought, "Oh, Mom can fix that." Those who know me know that sewing on a button is a challenge for me so what am I going to do w/o my mom to fix and repair?
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