dancing, family, life, love, Memoir, women's stories

Another June is Over, Thankfully

Each year June comes along, as always, right after May ends. It is a reflective month for me. Two of my sons and my beloved Angelo all transitioned to the next plane in June. In different years, on different dates, in different ways. They are always with me and show up in my today life but it is their physical presence that I miss. As time moves on, you would think that I would miss them less but the opposite is true. Maybe it’s because I am less busy, or at least busy in a different way, and have more thoughts I’d like to discuss with each of them. It is what it is and important to always move forward but looking back at a memory is okay, too.

Do you have someone you miss?

L – R Kenny, Guy, Ralph, Bret in 1966

Angelo, Me dancing 1982 at the Elks

art, dancing, Poetry

Day 10 ProlificPulse Mo Po: a poem inspired by a work of art.

Albo’s Strauss Waltz© arlene s bice

‘twas a painting, a print really
in my Mediterranean dining room
hung over my stereo console
back in the early days
married, becoming an adult

a perfect union, one glance
created music in my head
dropped down to my heart
while the stereo was off
impossible to be sad, silent

added life to a dinner party
gaiety before mellowness
circled the table formally set
guests mentally share a waltz
strangers became friends.

American History, dancing, general, Memoir, women, writing, WRITING MEMOIR

American Bandstand

Are you old enough to remember American Bandstand? Talk about a memory! I was 14 when my girlfriend Asta Fruscione’s mother drove 4 of us down to Philadelphia from Trenton (NJ) where huge warehouses filled block after block. We walked into the dark TV studio of American Bandstand with no problem. We were surprised that the spotlighted area gave only a tiny area to dance. On TV it looked really large. Bob Horn was the host at the time before Dick Clark later took over.

My mom was thrilled to see me dancing on TV!

We thought we were so clever calling in sick at Kuser School Annex (jr. high). Hah! The school secretary pulled me aside the next day. She saw us dancing away on TV like we were regular participants. She was cool and wouldn’t rat us out though. It would be our secret.

If you still have CDs (the kind you listen to, not savings) or any music still hanging around from the good old days, bring it out and take a listen. Relive your life through memory. Remember to dance in between chapters while the music is carrying you. No one is watching! Let those feet jump into the air. Whoee! Jitterbug or Watusi! Whatever your teen dance was, remember?

If you don’t know where to begin writing your story, pull out the photos that you have hiding in your drawers, under the bed and behind the couch in an album collecting dust. Just start writing.

If you aren’t clear about a memory and you ask your sibling about it, keep in mind that you may have both been involved in an event, but you have your own emotions and thoughts. Which means that if you remember a moment in a different way, it is because you looked through eyes that interpreted what you saw otherwise than your sibling. You may have reacted or remembered differently because it was different for you. Often siblings disagree on a particular memory not realizing that you were all right, just experienced the same moment differently.