When I was young back in the sixties one of the local television stations used to air old back and white movies from the forties each afternoon. I was a hardworking student back then so it was nice to relax for a time watching those films before starting my homework which usually took until close to midnight to complete. I enjoyed whatever happened to be showing on any given day, but some of the most delightful offerings featured teenagers of the time dancing the jitterbug with pure delight. 

I suppose that I was particularly taken by such scenes because my mother would have been a teenager herself when those movies were premiering in the downtown Houston movie houses. She often spoke with delight about catching a bus at the end of her street and riding to town to watch her favorite actors and actresses on the big screen. She often boasted that she learned how to do the dances of the era from carefully watching the pros and then practicing the steps before showing her acumen in public. 

My mother was an incredible student of dance. It’s sometimes hard to believe that she never had any official instruction because she looked like a pro whenever she demonstrated her graceful moves. She was so light on her feet that it felt as though she was literally floating on a cloud of air just above the floor. 

Mama often recounted how she would walk many miles to a nearby park where dances were held at a pavilion on Friday nights. She was a real beauty back then likened to Hedy Lamarr according to her siblings. It never took long before some young man would ask her to dance and she was always ready to demonstrate her footwork abilities. Soon enought the best dancers were partnering with her and her sisters said that sometimes the crowd would circle around the couple clapping and cheering as they preformed their stunning moves just like in the movies. 

I loved hearing such stories. I saw my mother dancing in her forties and she was still as spry and lively as ever. I realized what a true talent she had. She always looked so happy as she showed us how to jitterbug and tap dance and waltz. She tried to teach me and my brothers but somehow we just did not have the same talent that she possessed. It would be my daughter who would gloriously emulate her grandmother with an incredible bent for dancing. 

Even as my mother grew older and heavier she stunned people when she took to the dance floor. There was something etherial about her gracefulness and the way in which she glided so smoothly. People were still in awe of her eighty something year old self as she stole the show at weddings and birthday celebrations. 

Mama’s last dance came at the wedding of my niece. My mother was dying of lung cancer but none of us realized it then. She was feeling weaker and weaker and yet she somehow found the energy to pull herself together. I remember that she looked particularly beautiful on that day. In fact, when she arrived at the wedding ceremony people gasped at her loveliness. Later that evening as she danced with one of her grandsons she was radiant. She would eventually tell me that she had felt weak and she worried that she might not make it through the song. She loved that her grandson kept a strong grip on her as though he understood that she needed his assistance to complete her final dance. 

It would be only weeks later that my mother died in the ICU of St. Luke’s Hospital. She was quite content with her fate as the family surrounded her. She smiled often and insisted that she was feeling no pain. Her life had been difficult but she had managed to maintain her optimism as she danced through it all.

Later my daughters and I would marvel at how beautiful her end had been. She was not afraid of what lie ahead. We talked about how much she liked to dance and my girls remembered times when my mother would turn on disco music and teach them how to perform the latest steps. They smiled at the memories of twirling around the room with their Grammy feeling as though they were stars and she was their teacher. 

I still can’t watch great dancers without thinking of my mother. She was a self taught force of nature who took life by the tail and ran all the way to the end. It was beautiful to see.