Works of Art

I went dancing with Natalie and Anna Knight on Monday night and learned how to foxtrot, waltz, and east coast swing.
All of which I quickly forgot how to do by the next morning. But that doesn't really bother me, I've got plenty of time to re-learn and retain dance steps in the future, when I have a solid partner who won't disappear after one evening.
I do love dancing, though.
I hope I get to do a lot of it in my future, especially when I'm old.

There was this exuberant, vivid old couple, well into their nineties, who were dancing in the advanced class and they absolutely captured my attention and irretrievably stole my heart.
He wore a blue sweater vest and khakhis, she a purple scarf and matching violet pants. Together they made happy smiles fantastically haute-couture.
As soon as I saw them I was struck with awe-inspiring wonder. Together since the flood, greatly advanced in years, taking dance classes for the simple fun of it, because their impressive health allowed them to do so!
How great it would be to even be alive, or even just barely walking at ninety-five, and there they were.
Foxtrotting arond the dance floor with more vibrance and vitality than some of the couples half their age.

It made me think of that Eleanor Roosevelt quote, "Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art," for that is what they truly were. Beautiful. A stunning, detailed work of unforgettable, inspiring art.
A picture representing 100,000 words. Words of love, wisdom, happiness, and unfathomable teamwork. They were a perfect pair of sweet, earthly angels.
I only wish I could have known them!
I can't imagine what the story of their lives must be like. So revelatory of true sacrifice, I'm sure. And real, honest, unpretentious love.

That is what I want out of life. To have loved so fervently the same person for the span of a decided lifetime, to share with one person a lifetime of happiness, heartbreak, earth-shattering joy and faith-breaking blows.
To be healthy enough to dance with the only one I've ever truly loved when I'm only five years away from my own birthday centennial.
I guess that would be the diehard romantic in me, but I'm fairly certain I'm not the only one who feels like that.
Age is beauty. It really is. And love is eternal. And life is worth living if only to find that one true love.


My loves,
my doves,
my eggs.