The Last Dance

Larry and I celebrated my mom's last Valentine's Day a year ago dancing with her at the nursing home where she resided for the last months of her life.  Despite cancer taking over her body, she still had a little zip in her step, enough to kick up her heels with Larry and me as a big band played in the nursing home's large gathering room for their Valentine's Day party.  I have two great pictures from that special night -- one of Mom and me dancing a polka and the other of Mom, Larry and me dancing together with our arms around each other.  Mom loved to dance.  Her parents danced on Saturday nights in their younger years.  My mom and dad didn't follow suit, however.  Dad preferred to watch the dancing from the sidelines.  So, early in their marriage, Mom "danced" instead with their Dalmatian, Jigs, who was so-named because he would stand on his hind legs, place his big front paws on Mom's shoulders and dance a little jig with her to music playing on the television.  Later, I was Mom's partner, placing my little-girl feet on Mom's, dancing to the same program on TV.  We continued to be dance partners throughout the decades, always good for a polka or two or three.  There will never be a time when I hear polka music that I don't think of that very special last Valentine's Day dance with Mom last year, wishing we could have just one more.