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Dance With Me
Dance With Me
Dance With Me
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Dance With Me

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LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 29, 2011
ISBN9781936539772
Dance With Me
Author

Diane Garonzik

Diane Garonzik grew up in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and has been a flight attendant for American Airlines based out of Chicago for many years. She attended Harcum Junior College in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, and graduated from Ohio State University. She is also a French speaker and attended the Institut de Francais in Villefranche-sur-Mer, France. Her experiences with her mother and father dealing with her father’s dementia for 12 years and her desire for her niece and nephew to know about their grandparents inspired Diane to write the memoir DANCE WITH ME. Since 1997 she has been very active with the Sponsor Parent Board of The Children’s Home and Aid organization, which works to give foster children in the state of Illinois help, hope and opportunity. You can email Diane Garonzik at diane@dianegaronzik.com

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    Book preview

    Dance With Me - Diane Garonzik

    Dance With Me

    Diane Garonzik

    Copyright 2011 Diane Garonzik

    All rights reserved.

    ISBN: 978-1-936539-77-2

    Smashwords Edition

    Table of Contents

    CHAPTER ONE: ALL ABOUT LOVE

    CHAPTER TWO: HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA

    CHAPTER THREE: A NEW LIFE IN SOUTH FLORIDA

    CHAPTER FOUR: HOW DID WE SURVIVE DEMENTIA?

    "Life is much too important to be taken seriously"

    Oscar Wilde 1854–1900

    CHAPTER ONE

    ALL ABOUT LOVE

    This is a love story. The essential ingredients in the dance of Pearl & Herby's marriage are simple. Love and laughter.

    The courtship was not long. They met in the spring of ‘48.

    Back then, when couples fell immediately in love, and I emphasize most, they wanted to get married to have sex.

    As only they could, they chose to wed on October 31, 1948—Halloween.

    Their marriage took place on a Saturday night. From then on, Saturday night would be their night. A night for their circle of friends to have dinner and go dancing.

    Pearl has always been an unforgettable character in appearance and personality. With aging, Pearl's hair became so thin she started wearing informal blonde wigs. She had three. Being practical, all three were the same in color and style. They certainly added beauty and by chance, a bit of hilarity.

    The placement of these adornments on her head as well as the additional participants, who came in touch with Pearl and Herby, made up the tools for her daily persona.

    As this story is for my niece and nephew to get to know their Grandma Pearl and Grandpa Herbert, I will refer to earlier times in their lives.

    Let their story begin.

    Mom was the youngest of four, and as it turns out, so was dad. As a young girl, she was left with numerous relatives. Her existence was tough, but so was she. She met life with funniness and a heart of gold. Just like Pearl, Dad learned to shrug off most pitfalls. He was much younger than his half siblings and not always welcomed warmly by his mother. Fortuitously, they had many years together that also included Dad’s twelve years of dementia and Mom’s battle with diabetes, but their magnetism to each other was held together by their sense of humor.

    CHAPTER TWO

    HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA

    1950-1960

    Pearl said, Herby, I’ll be ready for dinner when I call the kids. Our family consisted of my brother, me, and Mom and Dad.

    Scotty, my younger brother, was the cutest kid. He was born with sky-blue eyes and long eyelashes with a hint of blond on their ends. He had dark hair and a constant smile. He loved playing outside with Eric and Dennis, the two boys next door. We were always outside unless the weather was intolerable.

    Growing up in the 1950s and 1960s was unsophisticated. There were many kids in the neighborhood, and you always had someone who wanted to play.

    We had large yards that were used by kids and for kids. Swing sets with slides were very popular. In fact, our mom used the sliding board stairs daily so she could call Scott and me for dinner at exactly 5:00 p.m.

    It was quite a site. Mom was five foot, two inches tall with pale blue eyes. Although always a blonde throughout her life, the shades would change through the decades. She had very broad shoulders and no waist, so her body width continued down to her very flat rear end. Mom was built the same way in the front except for a very large bosom and pencil-thin legs. She would climb the stairs in her tight skirt and two-inch heels and v-lined blouse to get to the top of the slide so she could bellow to her children for dinner. Then down the stairs she would carefully go, and if not a soul was looking, she would dare the slide.

    Everyone within the entire square block heard her. Her voice resonated like the musical instruments she played, which included the bassoon, saxophone and cello. You could hear her yell, Scuuttyyyy and Diannnnne. She seemed to add extra syllables, and she was very, very loud. With that came a large, boisterous tone. The sound was a combination of the sax and tuba. And she loved to yell. I guess it was her way of letting out steam.

    Mom was a character filled with enormous amounts of energy, and her curiosity drove her to snoop around the town. If Mom heard a siren, and Scotty and I were in a close vicinity of our house, she would scream for us to immediately get into her car—a black Nash. Ugh! When we were young, we were embarrassed by what we thought was such an unattractive car. Since the car doesn’t exist today, my only description about it is that it had a front

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