On Thanksgiving, as we prepared for the big meal at my parents’ house, my boyfriend and I escaped into the living room for a minute and we took a few moments to waltz together on the smooth wooden floor. I love that he’ll dance with me just about any time I ask him to.
As we danced on that floor, I realized how much I missed being home and how much I miss my parents’ house as well. I’ve purchased a nice starter home in my new town, but we don’t have space to dance in. We barely have room for our furniture and our books. We have a LOT of books. We won’t be doing much waltzing there.
When we were kids, the living room had thick white carpet. Later on, my parents stripped out the carpet and refinished the pretty hardwood floors underneath. A few years after that they took up ballroom dancing. The living room furniture quickly got pushed to the walls and the room became a practice floor. I love that practice floor and I treasure the memories of visits when I watched my parents dance, comparing notes and sometimes even danced with them.
Those experiences come less often now that I no longer live close by and I miss them. I miss what we used to share.
Some day, I want to have a living room just like that. I want dancing to be a part of my house.
Furniture smurniture. Let’s dance!