My son went to his first dance last week. At 11 years old, he danced with a senior and was bursting with pride over it. Who can blame him? He's already more successful at dances than I ever was. Until high school, I was the gal who stood in the corner trying to blend in and at the same time not look like the outsider that I felt like. The fact that Hunter even asked a gal to dance puts him way beyond my social skills at that age.

I don't dance in any way but slow dancing. But music has been an integral part of my life. It's the foundation for some really great memories, but more than that, it has at times been the only way that I could see where other people were when they didn't have the ability to tell me.

I don't remember the song that played during my first dance, but I remember the songs that my high school sweetheart put on a cassette for me (yes, I'm THAT old). That cassette told me everything he couldn't. I remember listening to the song "Teddy Bear" with my dad when he didn't know that was exactly how I felt when I knew he was on his way home from trucking all week.

I can't really play any instruments, but I enjoy practicing guitar with my son. Our musical tastes vary so much that I learn more about him just by listening to the songs that he picks to try out. And when my heart was shattered into a million pieces and I felt like a failure, music was the only way I could communicate to my friends how I was feeling because I simply didn't have the words or the ability to speak them.

Perhaps the most vital musical memory I have is the one that really gives me an image of who my mother was. On a hot summer day, speeding along a back road in the front seat with my mom, I can still hear "got a fever of 100 degrees..." rattling around my mind.

These days, I don't have any reason to cry to my music, except when I do. But you can bet that when spring rolls around, I'll have the windows down in my truck as I speed along a back road with my son in the seat beside me. And when he gets older, I hope that gives him some insight into who I was as a person and not just a mom.


  1. It looks like your son has a good start with dance confidence. I remember watching my son at a Bar Mitzvah dance. He didn't exactly ask the girl to dance, but rather grabbed her hand and said,"Come on." He never gave the girl a chance to say,"No" which is maybe a good thing.

    Seems like some of these kids have a lot more confidence than we had.

  1. WOW reading Joyce's comment too..tears me up!! And i LOVE his name "Hunter" symbolic is that..yup "you will know them by their fruit" AWESOME!!

    Did you ever try a 'wind flute'..i play one now..always wanted to play...and never could get the hang of any instrument..the wind flutes are AWESOME!!

  1. I have a house full of rebels. My eldest girl refused to wear a dress to her prom and didn't even look at a lad. My second didn't go despite copious invites from besotted males, my third went and then split up with her affianced...and my son didn't even consider going! But every one of them has fabulous memories of crazy front room dancing to old songs and I hope Hunter will have that too. It sounds like you are on the right 8-track *wink*

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  1. Love that he asked an older woman! I was like you, comfortably standing in the corner!I have many musical memories too!

  1. Hi,

    My name is John and I have a quick question about your blog! Could you please email me?

    Thank you,


  1. Hi John. I tried to email you through your name here, but Blogger isn't playing well with others. Can you leave me an email address or email me at Thanks!

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