Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

If That Were Us

DancingDear Darling,

May I have this dance?

I told you I don’t do a lot of things for my own sheer pleasure, but this outdoor jazz concert series is one of them. They’re playing All of Me, and Stardust and In the Mood…the sounds of our grandparents’ generation. This is classic and classy; art with a melody breathed into it. Musical history come alive. Music let us say the things with song that we might not say with words, and in these tunes are many of the things I’d like to say, or have already written you.

It’s a quaint amphitheater, not as much amph to it as the name suggests, but the saxophones and trumpets are in full force in the light of a setting sun, and there are several couples and a handful of children dancing by the stage.

There’s maybe a hundred here, but it’s mostly older couples, with some younger couples who bring children. So far as I can see in scanning the crowd, I’m the only one flying solo. Some of the parents are younger than me, but look older, as though having children made them grow into parents.

If that were us, we’d have brought camping chairs because you know my long legs don’t fold up well under me when sitting on the ground. We’d have stopped somewhere to eat before coming, or we would have brought dinner here.

If this were us, we’d have a steady appointment with frozen yogurt after the music ends. That Golden Retriever over there? That could be ours. Our children would be the ones running around the grounds, dancing in a circle down by the stage.

If that were us, I’d invite you to join me in faking our way through a dance or two.

If that were us, I might be playing catch with our son like that dad is. Our child might be the mischievous one whose father grabs him just before he sneaks backstage. You might be the woman leaning on one arm and looking with affection at her man laying beside her, like that woman is doing.

We might be like that older couple that just got up to dance. His hair looks like it came from the 70’s but he knows his moves and clearly enjoys them. I creep down front and snapped the picture of them as the sun set. That’s them that you see above. I approached them afterward to compliment them and send them the picture.

I wish I could describe it better to you. The vendors. The rhythms. The faces of people enjoying the simple pleasures rather than plugging in to the television. But you have to be there.

It could be us. It will be us. Some day.

I think I found our first dance song by the way, if you’re in agreement. Etta James’ At Last

It started to rain as I headed out to walk tonight. As the skies emptied, my heart felt just a little more full, and I couldn’t hide the broad smile, soaked though I was. You know I love a good storm, and walking in it made me realize that along with things rare and old that please me, it’s often the simple things that suffice. Some simple jazz songs and a rainstorm are enough to rest my heart in the belief that our days are coming, and may be closer than either one of us dares hope.

Yours,
Beren

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June 4, 2014 Posted by | Nights Like These, Our Timeline, Our Wedding | , , , , | Leave a comment