Candle Light

There was a comfortable softness to the long-familiar room as we watched the flames of the candles on our coffee table lighting up just enough…while the shadows, like a supportive audience, gathered around the edges. There were no other lights on in the house.

The stereo was softly playing songs of the 1960’s…songs that took us back to our courting days and all the dancing we used to do. And of course there was that first dance…the one where we met…the one where I kept holding her hand between each dance so that nothing could interfere with my dancing every dance with her…the one that changed our lives forever.

We didn’t need to say anything as we sat there in our living room holding hands and relaxing into our own special place. We listened to the music and watched the candle light and the memories. And as I sat there, I felt the growing need to ask her. I had to ask, yet again, in spite of the years, in spite of the infirmities, in spite of how long it had been. I had to ask, "Would you like to dance?" And she did and we did…the two of us alone in the candle light dancing as one.