It was the same thing every Saturday night. Rosie prepared an early dinner and handed it to her husband who sat quietly staring at the television. “Why don’t you come too?” she’d always say. “It’s never too late you know.”
Bob never dignified the question with a response. Between shovelling fork loads of food into his mouth, he silently reached for the remote control, selecting his favourite show. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than going with her.
Rosie shrugged as she applied a final shine to her pretty red dancing shoes. She put on her very best dress, the same one she wore every Saturday night. It made her feel like an angel as she glided across the dance floor. With her bag packed, she gave Bob a loving peck on the cheek before heading out. She paused at the door and tried one last time. “Life begins when you learn to dance.”
“Off you go,” grunted Bob. He loved Rosie with all his heart, but vowed never to attend one of her dance classes. It just wasn’t his thing, and never would be.
At the ripe old age of eighty-three, Rosie gave dance lessons at the local community centre. Her entire life revolved around the art of dancing. Nothing in the world gave her more pleasure than to see someone dance for the first time. Absorbing the look on a student’s face when they first realised they were actually dancing became her drug of life.
Her parents used to say she danced before she walked. As a one-year-old she would stand up and imitate people dancing on children’s television shows. When they stopped dancing, Rosie would plonk back down to the floor, without taking another step.
At the age of five, she’d dress up in her favourite blue tutu with bright red flowers and put on a dance show after dinner at all her family parties. Everyone adored her. Dancing and entertaining came naturally to her. Even at that age she knew her mission in life was to share her joy of dancing with the world.
As a bright young teenager, Rosie attended every type of dance lesson she could find. She starred in all the school productions. At times, she even pointed out where her teachers were going wrong, which didn’t always go down so well. Rosie didn’t mind though. To her, as long as people improved their dancing, she was happy.
After finishing school, Rosie began working professionally as a dancer. Her extraordinary gift for dance ignited an amazing career. After some colourful performances for the top dance companies, she landed a few small roles in film. That’s how she met Bob, a carpenter on one of the film sets. They fell in love and got married.
After a long and successful career, age eventually caught up with her. The film and dance production roles dried up, but it never curbed he passion for dance. Every night before bed, Rosie took to her knees and prayed to God that all the people of the world would someday feel the magic of dance. Her husband would be the hardest nut to crack, but she always put in a special request to God to help her with that dream.
Rosie’s part in the arrangement she had with God was to teach as many people as she could. So for twenty-eight years she shared her magic. She taught a wide variety of people at many locations, but for the last nine and a half years she gave lessons on a Saturday night at her local community centre. It became the driving force of her life.
Well, she had one other driving force in her life, and that was her husband, Bob. They’d been married for fifty-nine years, and in all those fifty-nine years, Bob never danced. He was a good man, but he just wasn’t a dancer. It was one of those bazaar situations Rosie couldn’t turn around, no matter how hard she tried.
When Rosie and Bob were young and falling in love, they stopped by the ocean on a moonlit night and kissed. Rosie asked Bob to dance, but he refused. That’s when Rosie first used her catchphrase. “Life begins when you learn to dance,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Rosie,” replied Bob. “There’s one thing I just won’t do, and that’s dance. And I promise you, you’ll never make me.”
“Well,” said Rosie. “We’ll just see about that.”
Sure enough, Bob kept his promise. He even went as far as refusing to dance with Rosie on their wedding day. This didn’t bother Rosie too much. In fact it made her even more determined. She swore to herself that someday she would make Bob dance, even if it was the last thing she ever did. That’s when she started tacking on an extra request each night when she said her prayers. “Please, God. Enlighten Bob, I beg you. Show him the magic of dance.”
They were now both enjoying the sunset of their lives. Every Saturday afternoon Rosie cooked an early dinner before preparing to give her dance lesson. She’d moan and groan as she went through the task of stretching the ever-tightening muscles in her aging body.
Each Saturday afternoon Bob asked the same questions. “Are you sure you’re up to it, Rosie? Why don’t you give it away?”
Rosie always gave the same reply. “Life begins when you learn to dance.”
“If you keep going, it’ll end up killing you. You know that,” said Bob.
“And what a wonderful way to die,” sung Rosie and she spun across the floor with a pirouette. “As long as I’m dancing, I will live forever.”
“As long as you leave me your money,” said Bob, “I guess I’ll be happy.”
“Actually, I’ve been discussing that with a special friend of mine, and I plan to leave you more than you bargained for.”
“How do you mean, Rosie?”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait until I’m gone to find out,” she said as she took off out the door to the community centre.
About an hour later, Bob began to feel very strange. An unusual tingling sensation began to move through his body. At first he thought it might be a heart attack. It was a most peculiar feeling, something Bob had never experienced before. It started in his head, with vivid images of Rosie, not only as he remembered her when she left the house, but as he remembered her from when they first fell in love.
As the tingling sensation arrived at his feet, the strangest of all feelings hit him. Bob actually felt like dancing. He didn’t just feel like he wanted to dance, but he felt like he knew exactly how to dance.
Then it hit him like a runaway train. Something was wrong. He grabbed the phone and called the community centre. A frantic young girl tried to explain that Rosie had suffered a massive heart attack only a few minutes earlier. She had tragically passed away. It was then that Bob understood exactly what had happened.
Rosie’s funeral was the following Thursday. All of Rosie’s students from the community centre attended. Bob insisted they all meet with him on Saturday night at the community centre. He told them not to forget their dancing gear.
When they all arrived, and to everyone’s amazement, Bob explained to them that he would be their new dance instructor. He began the lesson with his new catchphrase. “As I always say, life begins when you learn to dance.” Then, with a little help from a special friend, Bob danced like he’d never danced before.