Keep Dancing

Welcome again to my ramblings! Sometimes comedy, sometimes about my forthcoming book, Reclaiming October: How to Survive and Thrive After a Loved One’s Suicide, and sometimes about memories of not necessarily funny things that happened to me. This post is about the latter.

A few years ago a roller skating place existed in Norman, Oklahoma. Skateland, appropriately named, became a hangout for kids, kind of a rite of passage. And as my boys grew and had their own families, I enjoyed introducing the grandkids to roller skating.

One visit to Skateland after their session, my grands were seated swapping skates for their street shoes. A tune played that I thought really catchy and as I stood next to them, I started to sway and bounce to the music. This is not an unusual thing for me. When the grocery store music dials it up, I’m dancing in the aisles!

A lady approached me, a bit younger than me, with a teenager in tow. “Yes! Keep moving!” she yelled, and then, “Would you dance with me?” That takes a lot of guts to walk up to a stranger to dance. I’ve never thought to ask someone I didn’t know to dance.

Without missing a beat I said, “Of course!” Shocked? It seemed the most natural thing to me. Something about her kind nature told me it was the right thing to do.

My grandkids, pre-teens, sat horrified that their grandmother would dance in public with a stranger. I invited them to join us, but they weren’t having it.

I learned her name, Rebecca, and as we started to dance, she handed her phone to her daughter with instructions to video us. The daughter seemed used to her mother’s outreach to fellow dancers and she did not protest.

Rebecca and I danced for the rest of the song like two crazy women would dance in public. I became unaware of anyone else looking, maybe laughing, at the two of us. It became just us.

I noticed Rebecca wore a scarf that covered her apparently bald head. She danced in spite of whatever reason caused her hair loss. She danced in spite of what people may think. She danced in spite of the uncertain future we all face.

Rebecca and I hugged before she departed. Both of us happy and fulfilled.

It’s one of those moments I certainly cherish and I hope my grandchildren remember it. I tell them often life is too short to not dance.

And it’s a good reminder to all of us to dance. Teach your friends to dance. Dance everyday especially if someone is watching. Dance when you’re tired and blue, dance when you’re excited and energetic. Make someone’s day, raise them up.

And don’t forget to film it so I can see you dance.