Anonymous

When I married my wife Martha,it was the most beautiful day of my life.

We were young and healthy,tanned and handsome.Every picture taken by that day showed us smiling,hugging and kissing.We were the perfect hosts,never cranky or tired.We were as happy and carefree as the porcelain couple on our towering wedding cake.

Halfway through the reception,in between the pictures and the cake and the garter and the bouquet,my mother tapped me gently on the shoulder.I hugged her in a flurry of other well-wishers and barely heard her whisper,"Will you dance with me,sweetheart?"

"Sure,Mom."I said,smiling and with the best of intentions,even as some out of town guests pulled me off in their direction.An hour later my mother tried again.And again I readily agreed,smiling and reaching for her with an outstretched hand but letting some old college buddiesplace a fresh beer there instead,just before dragging me off for some last-minute wedding night advice!

Finally,my mother gave up.

There were kisses and hugs and rice and tin cans and then my wife and I were off on our honeymoon.A nagging concern grew in the back of my mind as we wined and dined our way down to Miami for a week-long cruise and then back again when it was over.

When we finally returned to our new home,a phone message told us our pictures were waiting at the photographer's.We unpacked slowly and then moseyed on down to pick them up.Hours later,after we had examined every one with fond memories,I held one out to reflect upon in private.

It was a picture of two happy guests,sweaty and rowdy in their dancing.But it wasn't the grinning couple I was focusing on.There,in the background was my mother.

I had spotted her blue dress right away and her simple pearls.The brand new hairdo I knew she'd gotten special for that day,even though she was on a fixed income.I saw her scuffed shoes and a run in her stocking and her tired hands clutching at a well-used handkerchief.

In the picture,my mother was crying.And I didn't think they were tears of joy.The nagging concern that had niggled at me the entire honeymoon finally solidified-I had never danced with my mother.

I kissed my wife on the cheek and drove to my mother's tiny apartment a few miles away.I knocked on the door and saw that her new perm was still fresh and tight,but her tidy blue dress had been replaced with her usual faded house dress.

A feeble smile greeted me,weak arms wrapped around me and,naturally,mother wanted to know all about our honeymoon.Instead,all I could do was apologize.

"I'm sorry,I never danced with you,Mom,"I said honestly,sitting next to her on the threadbare couch,"it was a very special day and that was the only thing missing form making it perfect."

Mother looked me in the eye and said something that I'll never forget:"Nonsense,dear.You've danced enough with this old broad in her lifetime.Remember all those Saturday nights you spent here when you were a little boy?I'd put the Lawrence Welk Show on and you'd danced on top of my fuzzy slippers and langhed the whole time.Why,I don't know any other mother who has memories like that.I'm a lucky woman."

"And while you were being the perfect host and making all of your guests feel so special,I sat back and watched you and felt nothing but pride.That's what a wedding is,honey.Something old and something new;something borrowed and something blue."

"Well,this OLD woman,who was wearing BLUE,watched you dance with your beautiful NEW bride,and I knew I had to give you up,because I had you so many years to myself,but I could only BORROW you until you found the woman of your dream-and now you have each other and I can rest easy in the knowledge that you're happy."

Both of our tears covered her couch that day.

That was the day mother taught me what it meant to be a son,as well as a husband.

And after my lesson,I asked mother for that wedding dancing.

Unlike me,she didn't refuse……

與媽媽共舞

佚名

與妻子馬莎舉行婚禮的那天，是我一生中最美好的一天。

那時的我們，年輕而有活力，皮膚被曬成深褐色，看上去很精神。那天，攝影師拍下的都是我們微笑、擁抱和親吻的鏡頭。我們是最幸福的主人，一點兒也不怪異，也毫無倦怠的神情。我們就像結婚蛋糕上的那對小瓷人一樣幸福而無憂無慮。

婚禮進行時，大家拍照片，切蛋糕，扔襪帶，擲花束，玩得不亦樂乎。這時，媽媽輕輕地拍拍我的肩頭，在眾人一陣忙亂的祝福聲中，我把她攬入懷中，她在我耳邊低聲說道：“親愛的，和我跳支舞，好嗎？”

“當然可以了，媽媽。”我真誠地微笑著回答她，不巧，這時一些外地客人又把我拉向他們那兒。一小時后，媽媽又向我發出了邀請。我同樣微笑著答應了，并伸手做出邀舞的姿勢。這時過來一些大學同學，把一杯鮮啤酒放到我手中，并把我拽走，要在新婚之夜前給我些建議。

最終，媽媽不得不放棄。

在頻繁的擁抱、親吻和推杯換盞的歡愉之后，我與妻子開始了蜜月之旅。我們乘船在邁阿密游覽了一周，這期間一種莫名的不安一直煩擾著我。

最終我們回到了新家，攝影師在電話留言里告訴我們，婚禮照片已經都沖洗好了。我們顧不上收拾行李便邁著疲倦的步伐去取照片。幾個小時后，我們仔細看了所有的照片，婚禮的熱鬧場面不時地浮現在眼前，我拿著其中一張照片，不禁陷入了沉思。

照片上的兩位客人歡快地跳著舞，他們汗涔涔的，一副笑逐顏開的樣子。但我關注的不是這對開懷而笑的客人，而是站在他們后面的媽媽。

我注意到她身著藍色晚裝，佩戴著簡單的珍珠飾物。我知道，她的新發型是專門為那天設計的，盡管她收入有限。我看到了她那雙有些破損的鞋子和抽了絲的襪子，還有那雙倦怠的手和手里緊握著的一塊舊手帕。

照片上媽媽在流淚。我知道那并非喜悅的淚水。那也是我蜜月不安的根源所在——我一直沒能和媽媽跳舞。

我吻了一下妻子的臉頰，開車到了幾英里外媽媽的小寓所。我敲了門，看到了媽媽，她的新發型依然漂亮，但是褪了色的便裝卻取代了那身體面的藍色禮服。

媽媽無力地微笑著迎接我，用虛弱的雙臂擁抱著我。我知道她一定很想知道我和妻子度蜜月的事。而我所能做的只是表達無盡的歉意。

“對不起，我沒能和您跳舞，媽媽，”我非常誠懇地向媽媽道歉，挨著她坐在舊沙發上，“那是一個極特殊的日子，只因沒能陪您跳舞而不那么完美。”

媽媽望著我的眼睛，她的話讓我難以忘卻：“胡說，親愛的。在我的一生中，你已經和我這個老太婆跳了很多舞了。還記得你小時候在這兒度過的那些周六的夜晚嗎？我放勞倫斯·威爾克的音樂，你便踏著我的毛絨拖鞋跳個不停，還大笑不止。不知其他的媽媽們是否有這樣美好的回憶。我想我是幸運的。”

“當你身為完美的主人，給所有的客人帶來快樂時，我在旁邊看著，心里有的只是驕傲。婚禮就是這樣，有新有舊，有得有失。”

“噢，你想，我這樣一位老太太，穿著藍色的禮服，看著你與漂亮的新娘共舞，我知道我該放手了，因為我已經擁有多年了，你只不過是我借來的，一旦你找到了理想的伴侶，我就得拱手讓出——現在你們彼此擁有對方，能夠互相照顧，我可以安度晚年，不必再為你牽腸掛肚了。”

那天我和媽媽都流了許多幸福的淚水。

正是那天，媽媽讓我體會到了既為兒子又為人夫的意義。

接受了那個教訓后，我邀請媽媽跳了一支新婚舞曲。

她沒像我一樣拒絕……

感悟在成年之后，別忘了邀請媽媽跳支舞，那是她人生中最難得的禮物。