I Hope You Dance

   I remember my mom showing me this photo when I was a little girl.  "This was taken when I was studying ballroom dancing", she told me.  She was so proud.  Silently, I dreamed of doing the same...taking lessons, and learning to dance.  I asked my mom, but she said we couldn't afford lessons.  So, my dream died.  Like most kids, I learned to do other things...things that didn't cost much.  Sure, I still danced.  Sometimes, you can't help but dance.  Its part of you, part of your soul.  It comes from a special, secret place.  I danced along with Gene Kelly.  I danced with Fred Astaire.  When no one was watching, I danced down our neighborhood's Alywin Road.  Toe dancing in my bedroom, can can in the living room (I could kick really high), I loved to dance.  If I saw it on television or in a movie, I copied it.  I just had to let it out.  

      I sang and tried to tap dance in a community show to the music "Yankee Doodle Dandy".  I wish I had a photo.  I was dressed like Uncle Sam, all in red, white and blue...complete with top hat and platform shoes.  Did I care if I had no idea what I was doing? No. In my heart, I knew Gene and Fred would have smiled.  And I far from reality, miles away from the real world.  I was happy.  That was enough.  

      When I was a teenager, I begged my father for the money to sign up for a recreation center disco dancing class.  He inevitably surrendered.  The class was short lived.  I got frustrated because most of the dancing required something I didn't have...a partner.  

   In Germany, I went out to clubs dancing.  Out on the dance floor, no one judges you.  The music was intoxicating.  The dim lights hid any embarrassing missteps I might make.  On Friday's country western nights, I tried my hand at the two step.  Not bad, but I kept getting hit in the head with big hats.  I danced to the music from "Flashdance" in the gym...just me, my tights and leg warmers, dancing to "Maniac".      

   In Korea, I discovered line dancing was not for me.  Too organized.  Too regimented.  To this day, the Electric Slide makes me cringe.  I wondered if I would enjoy it more if I took the time to learn the steps.  

Doubtful...even paired with a partner, I struggled with steps.  I was obviously a private dancer.  

   I worked at a go go bar while in college.  Its a long story.  Don't ask.  As a Lieutenant, I actually won a dance contest dancing to "Unbelievable".  Again, don't ask.  When I got married, my husband and I would go to the Officer's club with friends to dance.  Good times.  All our friends love to dance too.  When we went to the mandatory social events, my first question was always, "Will there be dancing?"  He loves to dance too (and has much more rhythm than I do).  After each formal gathering, we rated it on the dance music.  

   In Arizona, I tried belly dancing at the recreation center.  I must have been good, because they tried to persuade me to move to the advanced class.  I never did.  The advanced class had an additional requirement where they would perform in public. 

   Lately, I don't dance much.  We still, on occasion, attend formals that end the evening with dancing.  And sometimes, when my husband is at work and our son at school...I turn on the music and I dance in our sun room.  Its okay if the neighbor is sitting on his deck smiling at my loss of inhibition.  I'll still dance.  

   Its funny, all I have is this photo.  In my entire life, I have never actually seen my mom dance.  All I have is the memory...that look on her face...that satisfied free beautiful look on her face that said..."Once upon a time...this made me happy.  I hope you dance".