Dad has been story-telling.
Surely the best of times . . .
Christmas, 1946.
His home town of Lethbridge, Alberta, was in a justifiably
holiday mood.
Parties.
Get-togethers.
Dances.
A gathering had been organized at the new church hall.
College boy decided it would be fun to go.
Standing at the edge of the dance floor, he began to wonder
if going had been a mistake.
None of the people he knew were there.
Oh, there were plenty of girls.
Beautiful girls.
Most of them, the younger sisters of his friends who had,
surprisingly, sprouted during his absence.
He didn’t recognize any of them.
Standing there, uncertainly, he was approached by the mother
of one of said friends.
“Mark!” she said. “Go and dance with my daughter!”
“All right,” he said, smiling. “Happy to!”
She moved off and Dad turned back to the large group in
front of him.
Now I should point out here, that this girl was well-known
to my dad.
He just hadn’t seen her for a while.
In his absence, she had grown up.
The nerve of her.
He studied the faces of the girls on the dance floor and
milling the hall.
They smiled at him encouragingly.
Recognition was no closer.
Hmm.
Finally, not wanting to embarrass himself by approaching the
girl’s mother, he wandered over to a group of boys and asked them.
The girl was immediately pointed out.
Dad dutifully walked over to her and asked her to dance.
Whew! Mission accomplished.
She was a pretty girl.
Fun.
Vivacious.
Dad enjoyed dancing with her.
Feeling just a bit proud of his success, he moved with her
around the floor.
Then he spotted the girl’s mother in the crowd.
With a large, satisfied smile on her face as she watched the
two of them.
A ‘hundred-watt’ smile.
Now, as a mother myself, I can understand that smile.
Her daughter was dancing with a nice, handsome young man
from a solid family, who was studying to be a doctor.
A rosy future looked tantalizingly close.
And distinctly possible.
I’ve used it myself.
Most of the time, I’m sad to admit, it’s a relationship
killer.
Sigh.
This particular relationship wasn’t meant to be.
Though they enjoyed the evening, the two of them never
really hit it off.
Soon Dad was back at school and once more hard at work.
The young girl went back to her life.
Dad doesn’t remember much about her.
She was pretty. Fun. Sweet.
And her mother had a really
big smile.
See what I mean?
That smile was probably what scared him off. How is the patient doing?
ReplyDeleteDefinitely the smile! Daddy is doing better. He is eating regularly. Still weak and unsteady, but those bouts seem to be less often and less severe. Thank you so much for your concern!
DeleteOooooh good post, very thought providing which is my most favorite thing, people who write that facilitate my brain 'to think'. Thanks very much Diane! ~ your friend, Kaye ~ @grammakaye on twitter.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kaye! Keep that brain thinking!!!
DeleteI love the name of the label where you're filing this post!!
ReplyDeleteOur kids are convinced of it!!!
DeleteIn relationships where I got along with the girl, I usually didn't get along with her parents; in situations where I got along with the parents, I didn't get along with the girl... Until now.
ReplyDeleteWhen it all comes together, it all comes together!
Delete