The Tennessee Waltz

Today would have been my parents' 60th wedding anniversary. In honor of the occasion here is a little piece I wrote many years ago.

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I was dancing with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz
When an old friend I happened to see
Introduced him to my loved one and while they were dancing
My friend stole my sweetheart from me.

I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz
Now I know just how much I have lost
Yes I lost my little darlin' the night they were playing
The beautiful Tennessee Waltz.

Ahhh....The Tennessee Waltz. A beautiful song. One of my favorites. Hearing it evokes memories of stories Mom used to tell of an open-air dance pavilion on Lake Hamilton called Fountain Lake. Dances were held there every Friday night way back when. In my mind's eye I can see the gay couples dancing under the Chinese lanterns on a warm summer evening as the cool breezes blow in off the lake. The live band, resplendent in their white jackets, plays Tommy Dorsey tunes.

There is an old black and white photograph of Mom and Dad taken there at Fountain Lake. They are frozen in time, embraced in mid dance step. Both are in their early 20s. Mom is beautiful, the belle of the ball. Her eyes are squinched up with merry laughter. She's wearing a beautiful silk dress with a full skirt made from some material Daddy sent home from Japan. Dad, home on leave from the Korean War, is looking dapper in his Navy crackerjack. He is sporting a cheesy pencil thin moustache and his thick black hair is slicked down with a quart of Brill Creme. He has a rascally grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye. They both look so young. I'll bet Daddy doesn't weigh 115 pounds in the picture.

For this moment in time they are carefree. All the worries of the war seem far away. They don't know about the coming trials and tribulations of the world and their life together. All that matters is each other and the next dance tune. What a wonderful time.

Fifty seven years and three kids later, Mom and Dad are still together, survivors of several wars of the world and of the heart. The hair is a little thinner, a little grayer. There are a few more wrinkles around the eyes. The silk and the crackerjack have been replaced by a daily uniform of comfy sweatsuits. Fountain Lake has long since disappeared. It's been years since a band in white jackets played the Tennessee Waltz. But Mom's eyes still squinch up with laughter, and Daddy never lost the rascally grin. Who knows, maybe some night on an oldies station they play the Tennessee Waltz and the young-at-heart old sailor twirls the belle of the ball around the living room floor. I certainly hope so.