They Danced by Betty McCallister

Betty McCallister 8/1/09 They are all sitting around in the same community room with blank stares upon their worn and wrinkled faces. Mostly gray haired ladies of the day, and night, along with a few bald headed stately men, each with their hands neatly folded in their laps and droopy eyes with shoulders slumped. Staring, that is what they do at St. Bridget’s Home for the Aged. Lots of staring. There is a television to watch but most are not really interested, yet they stare anyway. A few might exchange conversation with another about their lives lived, fully aware these days that their future appears grim. Numerous thoughts circle around in their minds and the constant question emerges, "will he/she come to visit me today, or are they too busy with their families. I hope they come, and if they do, it puts a smile on their forlorn faces. Then on a low-keyed Saturday afternoon she does come, this rather large statuesque blond haired entertainment lady, decked out in a long flowing pink dress with a red flowery hat. She springs through the door liken to an angel, laden with various pieces of equipment. All senior spectators are overwhelmed with curiosity. Something different grabs their stoic attention. What now??? What it is is music! Beautiful music from days gone bye which they all recall in memory. Each song stirs the souls of these nearly forgotten folks. Faces come alive, toes are tapping and hands unfold with a clap or two. Some kind of wonderful is happening at St. Bridgets. A few tears stream down cheeks, tears of joy and sadness mixed together as the melodies tamper with their emotions. Some begin to sing along. Nostalgia fills the musty room. Then the big blond disk jockey angel gal puts on the Tennessee Waltz, and as Patty Page sings her heart out, a gentleman rises from his chair and asks a little white haired lady to dance, and dance they did. His legs are long and lanky, his steps are smooth as he hold her tenderly in his arms and glides her gracefully across the floor to the melodic sounds, "I was dancing with my darling".... It appeared he had waltzed many darlings in his bygone years as he was so statuesque and polished. A man who usually sat comfortably in a corner of the community room chatting with the few other men about their heroic days of yesteryear, came alive that Saturday afternoon at St. Bridget’s Home For the Aged. He waltzed like he was going for the gold. His pretty little partner glowed like she was 18 again and at her senior prom. They danced with delight as the audience beamed with gaiety. Is this a dream I am, or is for real? A few more joined in the dance as the afternoon faded into twilight. "Gonna take a sentimental journey".... ‘Please come back’ big blond lady was their plea as she departed . ‘You brought such pleasure to our lives when we thought it had slipped into neverland’. She tipped her blossomy hat and said she would be back, oh yes she would. Music was her true and dear companion and sharing it was her reason for being.