Slow dance

I just read Jill's post. It brought back the time at Dixon's...ohhh, that memory.

We were crammed in the handicap stall--Mom, Jill and I. Mom had just finished going to the bathroom and I held her up as Jill pulled up her pants. I began humming along to a song that played quietly in the distance. Slowly, Mom and I swayed together--her head close to mine. I could feel her short hair on my face and her chin on my shoulder. She danced with me, listening to my humming and I closed my eyes hoping to always remember how it felt to hold her, to dance with her. I remember looking at Jill with tears in my eyes, and without words we told ourselves to hold onto that moment. 

It hurts like hell knowing that moments like those are memories, but there's some comfort in knowing that I can close my eyes and feel our gentle sway once again. ~E