A Waltz to Remember

January 27, 2012

They could remember it. Taste it at the tip of their tongues. Their memories. As they stood in the sunset, the golden light kissed their silvery hair and prominent wrinkles. They had been married for sixty four years. To this day they could still recall it. Every little detail from the snow white doilies that the people were so nervous to stain, to the curtains that draped over the gigantic windows, and the crystal chandelier that hung above them as they danced the night away. There was no better moment in time it was so perfect. They wished they could freeze time and stay forever. But that was sixty four years ago. The radio nearby started playing their song. The song that explained them for all these years. The old man stared into her eyes; she was still the same woman he married years ago. The woman thought the same about him.
The man bows to the woman, the sunlight highlighting his bald head, smiles, and offers his hand. The woman giggles as her cheeks heat up, and takes it without hesitation. They start out slow, step by step in a leisurely waltz. What they don’t know, is that their granddaughter hides nearby behind the blueberry bush, watching in curiosity. The song’s pace picks up and they are in the dance hall once again. The bright lights they once shared those memories in, back, the same song they once danced to, playing, the laughter they once heard, surrounded them.
The euphoria engulfed them as their footwork, dramatic twirls, and quick pacing took the dance hall with great amusement. Their dancing neighbors moved to the side to make room for them as they were oblivious to what was happening around them. As they twirled, they laughed with wholehearted joy that their audience had never seen with any other young couple. The music guided them, and as their feet moved, their souls did too along with the melody. The music slows to a simple pace, and their footfalls become more dramatic, like soldiers marching. The granddaughter smiles and laughs, still in her hiding place, happy to see them have fun.
The couple, adjusted to the sped up pace, dance to the whirlwind of violins, piano, and countless other instruments. Their merriment and laughter increase as the song reaches the finale and the bystanders take in a breath of bewilderment, staring in awe. The couple halts right on the last note of the song, and their audience applauds. They guffaw and take in breaths of disbelief. The bright lights of the dance hall fade to the golden light and they are in the meadow, on the hilltop once again. The radio; playing a different song in the background. They slowly stop and stare into each other’s eyes.

The granddaughter, who watched them relive their youth right behind that blueberry bush, smiles, and sneaks off, her presence undiscovered. Yes, indeed they did remember them, their memories, they could even taste them. After all these years, they are still in the dance hall. They always will be.

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