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Hope you dance

When I was a little girl, my mother used to make my little brother and I watch Lawrence Welk every Saturday night. I remember wishing for something a little hipper but we didn’t have much choice. My Mom loved Lawrence with his baby blue suit and classy big band. My bro and I would roll our eyes when we would see him on TV but would quickly forget our agony the moment Mom grabbed our hand and spun us around the living room.

My Mom taught me how to waltz, jitterbug and never look at my feet. I may not remember all the steps now, but I think it was those early moments that gave me a little bit of rhythm and taught me how to dance my way through life. Dancing is like smiling to me. Even if I don’t feel like doing it, as soon as I start, I feel good inside.

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