Aging has its way of changing one’s lifestyle. My late husband, Paul, and I enjoyed ballroom dancing, not the dancing of today’s young people. They move around, often not even touching their partners. Paul and I could rhumba and swing step all around a dance floor. We were good. Paul never did learn to Cha-Cha, a favorite dance of mine.
When I moved to Atlanta I decided not to give up my love of dance, even though I no longer had a partner. I signed up for classes at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio near my apartment. What fun I had. Along with individual instruction, there were themed dance parties for students to practice their skills. Eventually the school rewarded me; I became a member of the Arthur’s Club for advanced students. We enjoyed dance experiences away from the studio at local dance venues. One time the class ended up dancing the new dance rage, The Macarena, in a restaurant parking lot.
Arthritis has taken Arthur’s place. I can no longer enjoy the dancing experience. Perhaps that is why I decided to find another form of self-expression—writing. My feet may not be moving, but my mind is in motion. This will have to be enough for now.
When I moved to Atlanta I decided not to give up my love of dance, even though I no longer had a partner. I signed up for classes at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio near my apartment. What fun I had. Along with individual instruction, there were themed dance parties for students to practice their skills. Eventually the school rewarded me; I became a member of the Arthur’s Club for advanced students. We enjoyed dance experiences away from the studio at local dance venues. One time the class ended up dancing the new dance rage, The Macarena, in a restaurant parking lot.
Arthritis has taken Arthur’s place. I can no longer enjoy the dancing experience. Perhaps that is why I decided to find another form of self-expression—writing. My feet may not be moving, but my mind is in motion. This will have to be enough for now.
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