佚名/Anonyo
Iadancgwithyfatheratyparents’50th-weddg-anniversarycelebration.Thebandispyganold-fashionedwaltzasweovegracefullyacrossthefloor.Hishandonywaistisasguidgasitalwayswasahetuohiselfasteady,youthfulway.Aroundandaroundwego,ughgandnoddgtotheotherdancers.
Wearethebestdancersonthefloor,theytell.Myfathersqueezesyhandandsilesat.AlltheyearsthatIrefedtodahhiltawaynow.Andthoseearlytiseback.
IreberwhenIwasalostthreeandyfathercahofrowork,swoopedtohisarsandbegantodancearoundthetable.Myhedat,tolddnerwouldgetld.Butyfathersaid,“She’sjtcaughttherhythofthedance!Ourdnerwait.”Thenhesangout,“Rolloutthebarrel,let’shaveabarreloffun,”andIsangback,“Let’sgetthosebesontherun.”
Wedahroughtheyears.OnenightwhenIwas15,lostsopaful,adolestood.Myfatherputonastackofrerdsandteasedtodahhi.“,”hesaid,“let’sgetthosebesontherun.”
WhenIturnedawayfrohi,yfatherputhishandonyshoulder,andIjupedoutofthechairscreag,“Don’ttouch!Iasidtiredofdancgwithyou!”Isawthehurtonhisface,butwordswereoutandIuldnotcalltheback.Irantoyroosobbghysterically.
Wedidnotdaogetherafterthatnight.Ifoundotherpartners,andyfatherwaitedupforafterdances,sittghisfavoritechair.SotishewouldbeasleepwhenIca,andIwouldwakehi,sayg,“Ifyouweresotired,youshouldhavegoobed.”
“No,no,”he’dsay,“Iwasjtwaitgforyou.”
Thenwe’dlockupthehoeandgotobed.
MyfatherwaitedupforthroughyhighschoolandllegeyearswhenIdancedywayoutofhislife.
Shortlyafteryfirstchildwasborn;yothercalledtotellyfatherwasill.“Aheartproble,”shesaid,“now,do’sthreehundrediles.Itwouldupsetyourfather.”
Aproperdietrestoredhitogoodhealth.Myotherwrotethattheyhadjoedadancecb.“Thedoctorsaysit’sagoodexercise.Youreberhowyourfatherlovestodance.”
Yes,Irebered.Myeyesfilledupwithreberg.
Whenyfatherretired,wendedourwaybacktogetheraga;hugsandkisseswereonwhenwevisitedeachother.Hedancedwiththegrandchildren,buthedidnotasktodance.Iknewhewaswaitgforanapologyfro.Iuldneverfdtherightwords.
Asyparents’50thanniversaryapproached,ybrothersandIttopntheparty.Myolderbrothersaid,“Doyoureberthatnightyouwouldn’tdahhi?Boy,washead?Iuldn’tbelievehe’dgetsoadaboutathglikethat.I’llbetyouhaven’tdancedwithhisce.”
Ididnottellhihewasright.
Myyoungerbrotherproisedtogettheband.“Makesuretheypywaltzesandpolkas.”Itoldhi.
IdidnottellhithatallIwaodowasdanceorewithyfather.
Whenthebandbegantopyafterdner,yparentstookthefloor.Theyglidedaroundtheroo,vitgtheotherstojothe.Theguestsrosetotheirfeet,appudgthegoldenuple.Myfatherdancedwithhisgranddaughters,andthenthebandbegantopythe“BeerBarrelPolka.”
“Rolloutthebarrel.”Iheardyfathersgg.ThenIkwasti.Iwoundywaythroughafewuplesandtappedydaughterontheshoulder.
“Exce,”Isaid,lookgdirectlytoyfather’seyesandalostchokgonywords,“butIbelievethisisydance.”
Myfatherstoodrootedtothespot.OureyestandtraveledbacktothatnightwhenIwas15.Inatreblgvoice,Isang,“Let’sgetthosebesontherun.”
Myfatherbowedandsaid,“Oh,yes.I’vebeenwaitgforyou.”
Theartedtough,andweovedtoeachother’sars.
在父母50周年结婚纪念庆典上，伴着古老的华尔兹旋律，我与父亲在舞池中优雅地翩翩起舞。他从容地哼着轻快的乐曲，依旧把手放在我的腰际，引领着舞步。我们旋转着四处滑动，不停地笑着对其他舞者点头致意。
这是大家公认的：我和父亲是舞场中跳得最好的一对。父亲紧抓着我的手，冲我微笑。多年来，我拒绝和他跳舞，直到现在，这种隔膜才消失殆尽，最初的美好时光重新回来了。
记得在我大约3岁时，父亲下班回家总会猛地把我抱进怀里，然后开始围着餐桌跳舞。妈妈就会笑着说：“晚饭都要凉了。”可父亲说：“她刚刚跟上节奏，过一会儿吃。”然后便唱起来：“把桶滚出来，让我们拥有一个快乐的桶。”我也会唱着：“让我们滚走忧伤。”
很多年过去了，我们就这样跳着，直到15岁的一个晚上。那晚，我沉浸在青春期莫名的悲伤中，父亲拿出一摞唱片，揶揄着让我跟他跳舞。“来吧，”他说，“让我们滚走忧伤。”
我转过身去，父亲将手放到我的肩上，我腾地从椅子上跳起来，朝他尖叫道：“不准碰我，我不想和你跳舞！”我看见他的脸上流露出受伤的神情，但话已出口，无法收回。我跑回卧室，大哭起来。
从那以后，我们再也没一起跳过舞。我有了其他的舞伴，而父亲总是坐在他最喜欢的椅子上等我跳完回来。有时候，我回来时他已经睡着了，我叫醒他说：“你要是太累，就应该上床去睡。”
“不，不累，”他总说，“我只是在等你。”