Gene Kelly's joy of dancing

Another stage of recovery--learning, by necessity, to do more on my own. Something has shifted in the ankle healing--it's definitely less stiff and my weight on it is edging past 60 lbs. I went to the Y twice yesterday and I got myself out of the swimming pool. I can't go in yet without assistance but the water buoyancy helped lift me out as I walked up the steps. Then, after a soothing massage, we went back to the Y in the p.m. and I did the bicycle with a few added minutes (not pushing the speed or strength yet), and did my upper body weights. It sure "tuckers" me out! Today, Y pool is closed for repairs so I will just to the bicycle (I hope it's not too busy) and weights. I may try to take a short "walk" (with boot and walker) this evening, just to see how that feels.

Yesterday I caught a TMC 1950s musical I hadn't seen in its entirety: Summer Stock, starring Judy Garland and Gene Kelly. Judy had a hairstyle that I recall my mother (probably like other 1950s moms) emmulated and I caught a glimpse of a shiny ankle bracelet on the secondary female character and recalled Mom wearing one of those, too. The kitchen stove in one of the scenes reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen. So, emotionally, I was connecting to the story. But the highlight was a scene with Gene Kelly, dancing "solo" with the assistance of a) a squeaking floor board and b) a sheet of newspaper. I watched him as he "discovered" how he could dance with these two props and, as significantly, I watched his facial expressions alter from surprise to joy/elation. It was a highlight of my day! As his feet pranced through steps and sound, as he deftly, with his feet, "cut" the paper into half, into quarters, into smaller pieces, I marveled at his body form and, of course, the strength of his ankles and feet.

When I turned fifty, I put my tap shoes back on and took a class here, even performed on stage for the spring recital. It was great fun-and once I did it, I didn't feel that I had to "keep it up." But I will always love dancing, appreciating the best, such as Gene Kelly (way cuter than Fred Astaire, and more athletic in his approach to dancing). And I am grateful I can recall how I was once able to dance, how, as I think about it now, my mom also loved to dance--even how she and Dad met at a YMCA dance club in the 1940s. Soft shoe or jazz, ballet or breakdance, moving the feet is an expression of joy and other emotions. So catch a Gene Kelly movie or watch "So You Think You Can Dance"--movement is great, even when it's just relearning how to walk up a stairstep.