The Dance

(Written by Jeff; Posted by Kellie)

My movie. I wish to write one. It will be about love, about my wife, about us, and what two soul mates do to enrich one another’s life. It will be a true story, not fiction in any way at all; love is never fictitious or blinded. It will be beautiful, because she is beautiful. Like I said, beauty and the truth.

She is beautiful. I have a special song I play and let the words wander through my mind as I sit and listen to it over and over. The words are extremely powerful, enlightening, and they let us know we are beautiful. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the puzzle undone. She is beautiful. Words will never bring her down. Nor will her MS. I hate it. Its here. I can’t get rid of it. But the sun shines on her. It beams on us both. The sun will always shine.

I have played this one scene through my mind continuously. It has us dancing in the shadows of one another. Yet the shadows become one, not two. They meld together, not like oil and water. The sun is behind us coming through the windows. It is a very large room we are in, old, stately. We are alone, just together with our smiles aiming at each other. The problem is, neither one of can dance. Dance Lessons.

I grew up never seeing my father perform, he must have been quite good at his craft, and he was known as The Little Shadow. He emulated his partner. Side by side they stepped, never out of rhythm, always in stride for stride. Needless to say, I did not inherit this marvelous form of expressing oneself. I can’t dance. Yet this scene won’t leave my mind. It constantly runs, never stops, it repeats itself over and again. I want to dance with my wife. I want to lead, have her flow across the floor, never out of step, shadows as one. It is painful, I am ashamed, and I can’t teach her. Dance Lessons.

This brings me down; it deeply saddens me and torments me to no end. I’m consumed with this. It has become a passion. Fred and Ginger, Kelly and O’Connor. Jeff and Jennifer. It wont beat me; I have a mission to whisk her all over that hardwood floor, the sun always shining on us. I have to teach her, I can’t go on without living out this dream of us cascading in stride, smiling, laughing, and being in love. No crutches, no chair, no scooter, no canes, just four legs mimicking one another’s movements and flow. Words won’t be spoken, perhaps just a few laughs, and the room echoes with just smiles as if they were mirror images of one another. This day, this sunny afternoon, no one has MS, there are no mentions of it, its gone, and it has left us just for this one special day.

I wonder to myself sometimes if this is all just a mere dream. I’m delirious, so consumed in all of this. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the voids are painful. Can this be in my grasp? Can I truly teach her how to dance? I have a plan - a drawing in my head, a vision in my eyes. My father was not only a good dancer, he was an engineer. I won’t design any steel mills for the world; however, I did learn a thing or two from him. And with the mindless ingenuity I possess, I can do this. Dance Lessons. It is in my power for I am her Angel. If I truly have earned these elusive wings, I must put my plan into action.

If we are to assume I am an Angel, as she claims often that I am, then it is imperative that we shall have our afternoon. But, you can’t always get what you want and it is not having what you want, but wanting what you have. I have more than any human being should be allowed to have; yet I yearn for more. As I sit and think about it, it is not for me, it is for Jennifer. I want for her. I want her to fly. I believe she can fly. I believe she can. I have to see it, hold it, and make it tangible. It is just a belief; I have this quest to witness this. Thoughts don’t complete what I want for her, it has to be in the palm of my hand to realize it is true.

I will always stand by her; I wont let anyone hurt her. She is the light in front of me that lets me travel down the streets with no names. I guess what that means is that wherever I go, she is there with me, regardless of where it happens to be that I am. I can’t shake her image from my mind. She is in me forever. I love her and will always and forever stand by her. Standing is easy; it’s this damn dance that has me puzzled. Enter my father.

I was not there the day my father passed away. I was not there to tell him all the things I had to say. They say you can listen as well as you hear. Today, at this time in my life, I know I listened to him. His echo is in my tears. Ten years have now passed since he left for Heaven. I miss him terribly every damn day. His departure from this earth left a void, yet an impact in my life. It is his wisdom and intelligence that will get me to the dance floor. Dance Lessons, Duct Tape.

I wear motorcycle boots because I ride a Harley. Funny, they are engineering boots. Coincidence; no. Fate; yes.

I have devised an idea using my boots, Jennifer’s shoes and duct tape. I take my boots off, place her shoes over top of them, and duct tape the shit out of them. Slipping my boots back on, I stand, smile, take her into my arms, and let nature take its course. This is how I shall dance with my wife. No matter what we do, no matter what we say, the sun shall shine on us. We are beautiful, no matter what they say, and words wont bring us down, not today.
Maybe I didn't love youQuite as often as I could haveMaybe I didn't treat youQuite as good as I should haveIf I made you feel second best I'm sorry I was blind. I am no longer blind. My shame is over. You are always, and forever, on my mind. I will teach you, I will lead you.

Let’s dance.