Early this morning, a friend of mine posted a video on one of my social media streams. It began with a husband and wife sitting at their kitchen table. The husband was on his phone looking at what he perceived as women who were "goddesses". He kept looking at his wife like she was worn out, unpretty, and had let herself go. Long story short, the husband got up and said he needed some space. He left the house.
The husband went to a local bar and had a conversation with the bartender. He was an older gentleman. The husband complained about his wife letting herself go and how much he craved the goddesses that he was viewing on his phone.
The older and much wiser bartender gave him some sound advice...
"Go home. Bring your wife flowers tomorrow. Tell her that you are taking her out to dinner. Buy her a pretty dress to wear. If you do that, you will see your goddess."
That's what the husband did.
Happy ending.
Mind you, when I watched this video, Lisa had just left for work. I was a bit cranky. Because of the many thunderstorms last night I did not get much sleep. I was very tired. Frustrated.
In addition, I have a sore throat. My allergies were out of control. My eyes were puffy. Black circles under my eyes.
I was completely miserable.
Needless to say, when I watched the video, I cried like a baby.
Yes, I'm PMSing. Yes, I'm going through menopause.
I could have easily allowed myself to crumble for the rest of the day and remain a teary-eyed mess.
But, I didn't.
I remembered something rather incredible that happened on Saturday, July 13th. That was the day of the big 85th Birthday Bash for Sweet Mama.
It was held at a hall not too far from us. Over the top. Catered. Gorgeous tables and centerpieces. DJ. A beautiful 3 tier cake. Dance floor.
Months prior to the event, Lisa and I were stumped as what to get Sweet Mama for her birthday. Last year, she claimed the gift that we gave her was the best gift she had ever received. It was hard to top that. So, we decided that for her birthday this year, we'd take Sweet Mama to her favorite store and to the Olive Garden for lunch.
We. Had. A. Blast.
During lunch, Sweet Mama talked about her husband. They were married over 60 years. He was her one true love. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago.
During this conversation, Sweet Mama mentioned a song by Celine Dion that they both loved and represented their love, etc. But, she couldn't remember the exact song.
We all know that Celine Dion has a bazillion songs.
When I said, "The Power of Love" her face lit up and she yelled, "YES!"
A few days before Sweet Mama's Birthday Bash, Lisa joked with me and asked if I was going to shake my ass on the dance floor.
"Nope. Those days are done and over with."
On the day of Sweet Mama's Birthday Bash, I wore a new skirt and shirt along with a cute, light Summer sweater. I polished my nails. Spent a little time on my hair so I could wear it down. Put on my lipstick. Dabbed my neck and wrists with my special occasion perfume.
I got a few compliments on my hair and such. Which meant so much to me.
About 5 minutes after I made my plate of food, a Celine Dion song started.
'The Power of Love.'
I looked over at Sweet Mama. She gave me that look and put her hands up.
I got up and walked over to where she was sitting. Asked if she wanted to get on the dance floor.
She said, "Yes..."
I grabbed her wheelchair and wheeled her out onto the dance floor.
I twirled her around and danced with Sweet Mama in her wheelchair.
Lisa got up to take photos with her phone. She was wide-eyed with pride.
A lot of other guests came forth to take photos.
When the chorus of the song came on, Sweet Mama raised her hands and said, "This is for you, Richard."
She was crying.
Over and over and over in my head, I kept saying, "Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry."
But, I did.
Right at that very moment, Lisa scurried to the dance floor and took Sweet Mama's hands. The 3 of us danced to the rest of the song.
After we wheeled Sweet Mama back to her table, Lisa and I went back to ours.
Throughout the rest of the party, we got Sweet Mama out onto the dance floor.
Lisa and I danced a couple of slow songs.
We reminisced about the last time we danced a slow song at my cousin's wedding over 20 years ago and my father gave us a dirty look.
I will never forget that look.
I also got up on the dance floor with a neighbor friend who has become family. She was on the dance floor alone. Line dancing. We danced a couple of songs together.
Then...she bought me a margarita.
Her husband complimented both of us. So did Lisa.
After a few hours of being on and off the dance floor, I was wiped out.
We left shortly before the big birthday bash ended.
While prepping vegetables for the backyard fire across the street, Lisa made a comment.
"For weeks you said you weren't getting on the dance floor. And, look who was the first one on the dance floor. You and Mama."
"Her special song came on. When I looked over at her, I could tell she wanted to dance. Her face lit up. That was a special song she shared with her husband."
"What made you get up on the dance floor the many times after that?"
"Because I caught you looking at me the first time when I took Mama on the dance floor for her special song. You had a look on your face. A smile. You made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire hall."
"You were. And, Mama too of course."
"When I saw that look, I didn't care what anyone thought."
"You shouldn't. You looked gorgeous. Even Uncle Bob complimented you a few times."
I didn't respond.
I continued to make my garlic bread popcorn.
With a big ol' smile on my face.
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