Part III Black and White
Black and White
When we dance and he wraps his arms around me like this, I think I could dance all night and never get tired – no swollen feet to think about, no back pain, no worrying about the MRI results which I haven’t told James about yet. I’m scared about it but I can’t bring myself to tell James yet. It doesn’t feel like the right time yet, what with him losing his job at the power company and all. But dancing’, well, everything fades away when James holds me and dances. That’s what I love about this place. We come here to dance about once a month. This is our dance night. And Lord knows, we love our dancin’. James holds me against his body, not like when we dance with friends where you gotta leave a little room for the Holy Spirit, as the preacher says. James holds me close – with love and sweetness and I feel safe and cared-for, you know – protected and all. His arms wrapped around my back, hands smoothing me up and down, squeezin’ and all. Even when he’s pushed up, pressed against my neck givin’ me little neck kisses and what-have-you and we start getting a little hot and sweaty, I still love to be held tight. I can feel his body heat, smell the oils and salts of his skin, along with the Old Spice that he splashed on after shaving earlier. I lose myself in his arms. The pain in my abdomen disappears like steam comin’ out of a hot iron. It just goes up and then just vanishes. I can finally let loose, get relaxed and all, knowing that the fine music from that man with the guitar along with James holding me, will sooth my soul, take away the ache of my inflammation – let me glide and float and drift. James has been the best husband a woman could ever want, way more than I could have ever hoped for. He was the answer to my prayers 27 years ago when we met back in my last year at U of H. He’s still my man today. He’s been a good man all these years. There is no better place on earth than being in his arms. Dancing like this, well, there’s gotta be dancing in heaven because this…. this is heaven to me.
Blues music does something special to me every time I hear it, no matter who it is or who’s playing it. Fast Blues, slow Blues, shuffle – it doesn’t matter. I feel it right down to my soul. When Mattie and I come out for dance night, we usually pick Blues. Sometimes jazz. Sometimes some of the R&B classics with The Grateful Geezers Band, but mostly we pick the Blues. She loves it when I hold her, different from when we used to do more fast dancing. Blues makes you want to get up out of your chair and dance close, not far apart or club dancing. We do some of that too, but with the Blues, we get down and dirty with our dancing. Hugging and squeezing and holding each other tight, kissing and all. Saturday is usually our Get-Lucky night too, though since Mattie started having her stomach pain and getting all bloated and all, well, we haven’t been having too many of those kinds of nights. I don’t mind though. I know she’s in real pain. I’m surprised she still wants to come out Saturday nights. The doctor told her she needed to cut back on the fried foods and all and that he’s going to do an MRI on her to see what is causing her so much pain. I hope she follows through with it and gets it done. We could both stand to loose a little weight so maybe he’ll give us a diet or some medicine that will help with digestion. I’ve been having a lot of that acid reflux myself. Not tonight though. Tonight, I’m just holding her – dancing and loving her. Ever since way back when we lost our daughter to a drunk driver on her graduation night, Mattie and I swore we’d keep on dancing after the mourning was over. It took over 2 year before we even felt like we could dance again. I think we started because we knew Jenny would want to look down from heaven and see us dancing like we always did, even in the house. So we just kind of started what we call Sad Dancing. Just holding each other, resting in each others arms, sometimes feeling the other one sobbing softly. It’s hard to dance with all that sadness. We just danced anyway. Eventually, we got through that and worked our way back to mostly happy dancing. Like tonight. It doesn’t matter who’s watching or which band is playing really, we just come for the Blues, and a few rum and cokes and to dance and hold each other. And I like how she moves. She’s always been a good dancer. I like how that feels when I’m all wrapped around her, holding her tight. In a way, she just dances and I follow it. I just close my eyes and let us become one – one couple, dancing, holding, loving. Blues music does that to me.
(to be continued)
Part III Black and White