My mother hated dancing.  Which was a bone of contention in our house because my father loved nothing better than dancing.  He constantly was moving his body and sometimes there was music playing, but most of the time there wasn’t.  He danced when he was making dinner, he danced while he was doing the laundry and he danced while he was reading a book.  I think his constant movement is what finally drove my mother away.  She loved to exercise and to be busy, but she also loved to sit still and read.  My father could never sit still, it just wasn’t in his nature.   

My mother had tried for years to be able to align herself with my father’s movement, but I think it caused her anxiety to spiral.  His constant pacing around the house wore the carpet as well as her nerves.  I think her leaving was most shocking for my father because he never noticed her annoyance with his dancing and movement.  Having grown up with his dancing, I was used to it, so I was shocked she barely gave us any notice about leaving.  One day she was making dinner for the three of us and the next day her bags were packed.  My father’s dancing and movement significantly dropped off after my mother left to the point he almost wasn’t fidgeting at all.  Years later he admitted he was afraid of my mother and what she would do if his back was turned. 


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