Editor’s note: Joan Vander Bleek submitted this 2017 Father-Daughter Dance photo of husband Luke and daughter Tessa.
Dancing with My Dad
It may come as a surprise to many of you that I love to dance. I know it seems strange, that a girl, whose favorite pastime is sitting in a comfortable chair re-reading books assigned at school, could also be an aspiring Ginger Rogers, but it’s true. I love to dance. The beauty and grace of a woman being led around a ballroom by a regular Fred Astaire is something that I aspire to embody. Unfortunately, I haven’t found very many young men who share my interest. Luckily, though, a girl always has her daddy.
On my vacation last week, there was a beach party that I attended with my parents. There was a great band, and I couldn’t resist tapping my foot to the interesting calypso sound. My enthusiasm for the music did not go unnoticed by the musicians, and I found myself being pulled up onto the dance floor by the lead singer. At this point, my parents were busy mingling with other vacationers….[They] didn’t notice my face turning red, as the singer serenaded me and forced me to dance in front of everybody. Soon enough, though, my dad came out to save me.
He whisked me onto the dance floor, and we danced. I’m much more comfortable dancing with my dad than with a strange reggae musician, so the embarrassment left me, and I just had fun. This made me remember the many wonderful nights I’ve spent dancing with my dad through the years.
When I was quite young, my home parish–St. Mary’s [Catholic Church] in Morrison[, IL,]–began an annual tradition of hosting a Father-Daughter dance. Although I initially thought it was strange, I very quickly grew to love it and to look forward to the event every year. Because of this dance, I learned very early about how a man should treat a lady. My date for the night would buy me a corsage and would tell me that I looked lovely. Then he would open the car door for me and take me out to a nice dinner, before bringing me out to the church, where he taught me how to dance.
I felt very well respected, despite the fact that I had to share my date with three other young ladies–which became four, after my sister, Elise, was born. Not only was it great fun to spend time hitting the dance floor with my dad, but I also made some of my best memories with my sisters at that dance. Whether it was dancing with one another while one of our other sisters [Matalyn, Isabel. Tessa, and Elise] was monopolizing our dad, raiding the snack table, or doing our hair and makeup beforehand, we enjoyed it thoroughly. Every year, a photo was taken of us girls and our dad at that dance, and it’s wonderful to reminisce and to watch ourselves grow through the photos. It’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for the world.
My memories of the Father-Daughter dance are of our little church on Garden Plain Road in Morrison, but this little dance has outgrown its venue and is now held at Morrison High School. More and more girls and their dads keep coming….It’s nothing short of wonderful to witness the love that these dads have for their daughters and vice versa.
Dads, I urge you, bring your daughters to this dance. It’s on Saturday April 7, 2018, at 7:00 p.m., at Morrison High School[, 643 Genesee Avenue, Morrison.] Believe me, your daughters will remember it for years, whether they’re three years old, or 13, or 30. I hope I’ll see a lot of Fulton[, IL,] girls there. There’s no reason to let the Morrison girls have all the fun!