To Jason on Dancing

I wanted to tell you that your dad and I danced on a street corner in New Orleans.

We arrived there on April 29th, and walked down to Jackson Square, pausing on the way for lunch. We walked around the square looking at art and nearly bought a painting of jazz musicians in colorful clothes on a black background. Then I rested in our hotel while Russ went to his meeting.

We had dinner at a cute little almost-empty bar that felt aimed much more at your generation than ours. And then we walked on to experience Bourbon Street on a Saturday night. We donated to street performers, stopped in a couple galleries, decided we were too tired to stay for the Preservation Hall show but might come back another night. And when we heard a combo playing on the corner, we danced.

I'm not sure I had even told you about our dance lessons. We'd only had a couple. Our first lesson was 3 days after I saw you for the last time.

I don't know if you realize this, but your dad likes to make a list of subjects to discuss before we call people. THAT morning, dancing was at the top​ of the list, right behind Happy Birthday.

I got up early and posted on your FB page, and you responded. But I waited to talk to you until your dad was up (and also it WAS still quite early). Our first call to you was, I think, about 15 minutes before the crash. By the time we called again and left a message, you had died.

Yesterday, your dad came downstairs in tears, just thinking that you would want us to dance. I think you would be happy that I'm finally learning to follow. I was so bad at it when we danced at your wedding. I hate that I won't get to dance with you again. But we plan to continue our dance lessons anyway. You would want us to dance.