And So We Danced

The first time we danced together, it just didn't work so well...in fact, the first couple of times was pretty bad.  It's not that you didn't know how to dance, nor was it that I couldn't follow (normally), but there was some weird little step that you did when we were slow dancing and I just couldn't get the hang of it.

When we were getting ready for our wedding, we took private dance lessons, and we learned to dance together, ballroom style, but we still couldn't just cuddle up and slow dance.  Then came Pres. Obama's inaugural dance and I SAW it-I saw that funky little step that you did!  It was the Black version of the two step! And, so we danced!

We danced at our wedding, we danced to the Blues, we danced everywhere there was a band and a dance floor. We even danced in parking lots and grocery store aisles (well, mostly I danced and you just tried to humor me so we could get out before we were thrown out).  The best times were when we danced in the living room.  Tru would come and get between us ("scuse me guys, scuse me, I need to get in here") and so we danced.

There was the time that you danced with your tennis-racket shaped bug zapper (that you just absolutely had to have).  I remember it so clearly.  You had on boxers, a t shirt, black ankle socks and black flip flops!  We had watched "Purple Rain" and at the end of the movie (of course) they played Prince, Purple rain.  You were dancing to that song with your bug zapper, chasing a fly!  You were so funny!  The first time I saw the bug zapper after you were gone, I cried and cried.

You always took me dancing for my birthdays and our anniversary (all two of them).  Once we got started, we stayed on the dance floor most of the time the band played.  I loved being in your arms, I loved flirting with you while we danced (we also had so much fun laughing at the weird way other people danced!  So not like you, but so like me!).  I can still remember you saying "don't worry about what I'm doing, you just keep doing what you're doing and I'll be there".  I didn't know how in the world we could dance if we weren't in sync, but somehow, it always worked out.  I guess maybe it was like that in our marriage (and even in our courtship), we weren't always on the same step, we had different styles, but it worked, somehow, it always worked.

Tonight, Tru and I popped popcorn (you always did that and brought it to me on a paper plate instead of the bowl..I don't know why, and I never asked) and we watched a movie.  At the end of the movie, there was dance music.  Tru got up and did his "hip hop" routine.  Remember how it used to always crack us up when he did that?.  A slower song came on and he said "Mawmo, dance".  I told him I couldn't dance.  He said "Yes you can Mawmo, you and Popi always danced and I'll dance with you now, Mawmo" and so we danced.  He was me and I was you.  I know you were in this room.  I could see you.  You were wearing your blue plaid shirt (the one that was your favorite) you had on your jeans, and your flip flops with socks. You danced with us.  You were so real, you were so here with us.

I started going to a grief support group at church this week.  It's just incredibly sad.  One of the things in the book (you know I HATE those kind of books and I always skip ahead) was that you are supposed to "accept your loss".That makes me so angry!!!  I don't want to "accept my loss".  I did not wait 50 years to find you, Michael, just to "accept" that I've already lost you.  I refuse, I absolutely refuse to accept anything about this horrible, painful season of our life.

You are here, I feel you here, I hear your voice, I smell your neck and I see your face!  I may not be able to touch you, I may not be able to ask you to mow the lawn tomorrow (remember, you cancelled the lawn service this year because "we" were going to do it ourselves and now "we" is "me" and I don't even know how to start the darn mower) but I know you're here, Michael. I know you're here.  You promised to never leave me and so I refuse to "accept my loss".  I go on living for you, missing you, dreaming of you and grieving every single day.  I keep doing everything as if you were here, Michael.

And so we will dance.