The dancers

 I watched as he sat in his favorite chair, his stocking feet shuffling in a sort of pattern, like a dance move. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling the kind of smile reserved for someone special. There was a picture on the mantel of a young couple, he in uniform and she in a wedding dress. Aside from others in the family who knew love. He used to tell me how much they loved to dance and how they met at a USO dance, and didn't yet know what an amazing love story they were going to write as the years passed. He told me they never missed a chance to dance to the old school songs they remembered. He would smile that smile and admit dancing with her meant another chance to have her in his arms. Sixty years together, each one celebrated with a dance and another memory in the making. Their children, all grown now with kids of their own, stand in the shadows, watching what true love means when two become as one, leaving age behind with graceful movements and smiles reserved for someone special. I would see him shuffling his stocking feet and visualize him in shiny shoes and her in heels, gliding across a dancefloor, oblivious to anyone else, alone in the moment until the music stopped. It warms my heart to watch him as he sleeps and shuffles his feet to a special song they must have called their own. I want to believe she's somewhere, waiting for her dance partner to join her on a heavenly dance floor where the music plays forever, and smiles are reserved forever for someone special.                                                                   

Mike  2026