Private dance lessons one of many Mom memories

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Someone once said, “Mother is the symbol of security and understanding . . . and if the truth were told that is the reason Mother’s Day is celebrated.
We love our mothers sometimes for their memorable traits and in our case as we get older, we wish we could experience them first-hand again. Many claimed mothers were their shield from a baffling world. Others relish that their mother understood what no one else -- father, brother, sister, grandparent or beloved friend -- was able or willing to understand. We now smile when we recall many of my mom’s memorable traits of always being there when we needed her.
One of my favorite memories came when in my early junior high years the local teen center was formed. It became the Saturday night hangout featuring soft drinks, candy, popcorn, a jukebox and a dance floor. It was quite natural for lots of girl classmates to know how to dance because they had brothers and sisters. As for me being an only child, I never learned to dance. That’s when my mother stepped, or I should say “danced in’ helping to fill a void in my social life.
I knew my mother loved to go to dances. Thus, she had no problem answering my shy request to teach me how to dance. Of course, her teaching took place in our own home with a smooth song on the record player and my dad out of the household at work.
I learned the “box step” and must admit I probably stepped on her toes many times as I tried to find that smooth rhythm. With love only a mom could give, she persevered. A few weeks later I headed off to my first teenage dance.
Because I only knew the box step, I played it cool. The old jukebox at the teen center would ring out a smooth melody that I termed a “slow one” and I would then make my move asking a girl to dance.
 I never got in the fast pace of the rock and roll like many of my buddies. But, I did graduate to the “bunny hop” and over the years I learned a few other steps for the “slow music.”
I don’t know if my dancing helped me to capture my Betterhalf but, I wish Mom was here today so I could thank her for her lessons. However, I also wish her and I could box step a “Slow one” one more time to celebrate this Mother’s Day.

RL Furse  is publisher emeritus of the News-Register

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