Category Archives: Dancing

children, Dancing, Family, grandchildren, Grandparents, Hope, inspiration, Jesus, Laughter, life, music, story, Time

A Graceful Dance

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It was a Daddy Daughter Dance.  Unfortunately for my son, he had to work out of town.  Fortunately for me, I was the second-string back up for Grace, who is 6 years old, and in first grade.

The school dance was for elementary girls, grades one through six, at our local university Grand Ballroom. My only concern was that it was from 6 to 9 PM.  Having two left feet and the coordination of a one-legged giraffe, how in the world could I fake dancing that long?!  In the end, it didn’t matter.

What did matter was that my granddaughter had a good time. She was dressed in a light blue dress covered with tulle. (For the ladies, aren’t you impressed I know what “tulle” is, and for us guys, it’s said “tool”, but not spelled that way, so it’s not a skirt covered in crescent wrenches like I thought.)

Continue reading A Graceful Dance →
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art, beauty, Dancing, dreams, Faith, Family, Hope, life, music

Hear the Music

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Sometimes I just sit in my home “office” staring at my wall of collected musical instruments.  I don’t play any of them.  I just like them.

It seems nostalgic, yet, real. 44

It started with a casual garage sale purchase, but now I want a mural of music making contraptions.  Granted, most are non-functioning wall hangers, but when I stare at them, I wonder, imagining the sound of each instrument as deaf music flows to hearing ears.

Whether a solo, or a symphony of organized noise produced by metal, wood and strings, sometimes I hear it. Continue reading Hear the Music →

beauty, Dancing, Faith, Family, grace, Hope, inspiration, life, loneliness, love

    Déjà Vu

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She was out of place at the convenience store Subway.  I saw her sit down at a tall bar stool table inside.

She wasn’t eating, but had a small Styrofoam cup of coffee that she wasn’t drinking.

Her silver blue hair was perfect, in every way, and she was wearing her Sunday best dress complete with a little pearl necklace and old fashioned black, block heel dress shoes.

She was tall and slender, and her glasses seemed to be part of her face, like they’d been there for years. Continue reading     Déjà Vu →

Church, Dancing, Disability, Faith, Family, grace, Gratitude, Hope, Jesus, prayer

Singing in the Rubble

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Maybe it was congenital. Maybe brain damage.  Either way, he was effected.

His leg drug faintly when walking. At the repeat of each pair of steps, he swung his hip to the left so he could pivot his right leg up for the next step.  It would have been slow and tedious for others, but he’d had a lot of practice, probably a lifetime, so he was fluid when he walked, even if it wasn’t smooth.

He was short and stocky, wearing simple blue jeans with his plaid blue shirt neatly tucked in.  His glasses were thick, and although his eyes seemed to move just a hint slower, they were overshadowed by the peacefulness of his face.

We all walked into the church auditorium, and as circumstance would have it, we ended up sitting diagonally behind the stranger in church. Continue reading Singing in the Rubble →

beauty, children, Dancing, Daughters, Family, fathers, Hope, life, love, parenting

Dance On

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She smiled, then flashed her big beautiful brown eyes before scooting over beside me and asking what I knew she would ask.

“Daddy, will you dance with me?”

Dancing. It terrifies me. On the other hand, I don’t mind looking like a fool on the dance floor because other than a slow dance, I know that’s how I’ll look.

Now my oldest daughter, Shawnna, who was 14 years old at the time, was asking to dance with me at her basketball fund-raiser in the school cafeteria.

There’s only one answer. “Absolutely!”

There were lots of girls there, only a handful of guys, and even fewer fathers.  If you lined all the other males up and rated them from first to last on the dance floor, I would by far be last, dead last.  I didn’t, no wait, I still don’t know how to two-step.

Shawnna is a very kind, observant daughter and knew I would dance, but also knew I didn’t like dancing because quite frankly, I don’t know how.  As if our roles reversed, she smiled, took my hand and said, “Come with me. I’ll teach you.” Continue reading Dance On →