The Last Dance
When the evening ended, Daniel asked me for one final dance.
The song was slow. The ballroom lights glowed softly.
As we danced, I looked down at the blue fabric. At the lace. At the sleeves Grandma had carefully sewn.
Suddenly I didn’t see an old-fashioned dress anymore.
I saw a lifetime of love. I saw sacrifice. I saw memories.
I saw Grandma.
And for the first time that night, I understood.
The dress had never been about prom.
It had never been about fashion.
It was Grandma’s way of staying with me.
