The Last Time We Danced

I don’t remember the first time we danced, though I’ve heard all about it.

So many times, my mom told me the story of the day we met. She said that the moment you laid eyes on me, you fell in love! You scooped me up and held me close. You smiled the biggest, proudest smile and stared at me in awe, swaying with me to music that only you could hear.

I’m sure it was great.

Personally, I have no recollection because I was like, two hours old. I’ve seen pictures though, and your mustache was amazing in 1975!

I do remember many other times that we danced.

I remember you and Mom dancing in the kitchen. I would squeeze myself in between you two and get swept up in the music and the love and the perfect contentment of being the center of the universe.

I remember shaking our booties and singing at the top of our lungs about driving our Chevy to the levy. I didn’t even know what a levy was, but it was such a shame that it was dry!

I remember having to take off my shoes so I could stand on your toes without squashing them. No matter how tired you were from mowing the grass, or working in the garden, I would ask you to dance, and you would say yes. You always had a little energy left to twirl me around the living room. You would catch your breath while you watched your blended bundle of children perform Hit Me with Your Best Shot and Hot Blooded. We were pretty good! Then you’d make us listen to some “real” music like Kenny Rogers and Conway Twitty. Hello Darlin’…

I remember the summer you and my stepmom taught me to two-step. I don’t remember how to two-step, but I remember that summer! It took about 15 songs, but I finally (almost) got the hang of it.

I remember the day the question was asked, “Who gives this woman…?” You stood up proudly and said, “Her mom and I do.” And then we danced.

I was so worried that I might fall in those high-heeled shoes. But you…you just smiled and said, “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.” And of course, you didn’t. We laughed and hugged and cried and danced while Celine sang “our song”. Every word of that song rang true! “You’re the one who held me up, never let me fall. You’re the one who saw me through it all.”

When my little Ladybug came along, and The Boy, too, you scooped them up, swayed with them and fell instantly in love.

You truly have seen me through it all. Through all of life’s ups and downs and even when life has run completely off the rails, you’ve taken my hand and helped me keep going. That’s what we do. We keep on dancing. We don’t give up.

That’s what we did the last time we danced at that beautiful wedding that was so full of love, laughter and two families becoming one.

They played our song.

I asked you to dance and you said yes. You still had a little energy left to twirl me around the dance floor. Even after a long day of Best Man duties and soggy weather, even after a terrifying diagnosis and two years of exhausting treatments, even after quarantines, masks, and social distancing, even forty-six years after our first dance…you said yes.

You said you were really tired and you might get dizzy.

I said, “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

And we danced.

The last time we danced was incredible. It was better than dancing at my own wedding because now I truly understand what it means to love a daughter or son. It was better than all our dancing when I was a little kid because now, I truly understand how tired you were but somehow found just a little more energy to spend time with me and make me feel loved. It was better than the first time we danced because when you met me, I was just a promise, a hope, a tiny, beautiful expectation.

But now, I’m everything I am because you loved me.

I hope you know how grateful I am and how much I love you. I appreciate every single day I have with you. I love when we talk about the meaning of life or what we had for breakfast. I will always remember all the times you made me feel safe and loved and invincible. I will always remember the things you’ve taught me, to be strong and honest and only curse when its necessary. I will always remember that we don’t give up.

And I will never forget the last time we danced.

I love you, Daddy.