Our family loves dancing, there’s no doubt about it. From dancing with my dad at my wedding, to groovin’ to some good ol’ fashioned classic rock, or dancing the polka with an unknown German gentleman, dancing brings us joy.
I grew up with grandparents (my mother’s parents) who drove about 50 miles to the Moose Lodge in Harvard, IL to dance just about every Saturday night. In fact, my grandmother, Clara, would never have met my grandfather otherwise – they met at a dance hall. Grandpa was always a sharp dresser, with his hat cocked just so, and the man could dance. Didn’t hurt he was good looking, too. My siblings and cousins and I learned steps while watching Lawrence Welk and by going out to the Harvard Moose on Friday nights for fish fry and dancing. Polka, waltz, 2-step …. we learned with the best. Even after his stroke, my grandpa would still get out there and dance. He was not nearly as in time with the music, and you just had to go with whatever steps he was doing, but he loved it.
I still dance, mostly with my family or alone at home, headphones on, rockin’ out to classic rock on my iPhone. I would love to find a dance hall, like my grandparents, and dance every Saturday. Polka, waltz, 2-step, salsa, swing, jitterbug …. the music is in me.