The Last Tango.

by

Making sense of loss, “Mary Oliver style”.

Heather Waldie died this past month at the age of 64 from cancer. She made a deep connection with all of us at Monday Tango Cafe and we are grieving the loss.

Join with me in some reflections on Heather’s life and the lasting connection that one makes through dance. Beginning with Mary Oliver, my go to these days for wisdom and perspective:

Poppies

Of course, loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that Dance*

is an invitation

to happiness,

and that happiness,

when it’s done right,

is a kind of holiness,

palpable and redemptive.

… I am washed and washed

in the river

of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—

what can you do

about it—

deep, blue night?

Mary didn’t dance, not that I am aware, but Heather certainly did. Could she dance!

Here I am, at this moment, grieving Heather.

This caught me by surprise. 

Not Heather’s passing. We knew that day would arrive. She had kept everyone up to speed about her condition. When she stopped coming to the Tango Cafe we knew it was because she didn’t have the strength to dance anymore.  When she stopped writing we knew it was because she didn’t have the strength even to write. We knew what was coming after that.

So the surprise wasn’t her passing. For me, it was that I am grieving the loss so. 

I really only knew Heather from the dance floor. We never communicated other than the times she came out on a Monday night or sent updates on her travels and treatments. I seldom took time to visit Monday nights, preoccupied with my hosting duties; I am typically perfunctory with emails.

I wasn’t ready for the wellspring of tears. Perhaps I had been holding out the hope for one more dance, imagining that it might in some way, put everything right. Maybe I thought tango could actually reverse cancer. Maybe I think dance is more powerful magic than death. 

Maybe it is simply that holding each other in close embrace over time morphs into affection.

Does this happen?

Does attentiveness, support, and generosity of spirit expressed on the dance floor extend beyond the dance?

Can one’s dance energy, body shape, and interpretive style imprint on the other’s heart?”

Apparently.

Apparently, there is an expansiveness that happens when two people join together in motion and music – an energetic, creative exchange that marks the body and the heart.

In Mary’s words, there is …

... an invitation to happiness.

And that happiness, when it is done right is a kind of holiness.

When we allow our heart to be so enriched, even the deep, blue night is infused with light. And on many occassions, Heather was that light. We miss you.


*(N.B. my insertion of “dance” for “light”)

ADV, 1/31/2021

7 thoughts on “The Last Tango.”

  1. Heather certainly has been a new dear friend and it has been hard to see her become a whisper. She is and has been a nugget of a person, a gem I shall hold dear, and will remain appreciative of her words and her great heart. I too am crying for her, and can imagine the loss she will be representing for many who were lucky enough to meet with her, hear her eloquently spoken insights and imbibe in her sharing.
    My cheeks wet with tears also for not being able to contribute to any recovery, or reversal of this path. It feels a sudden turning away.
    My tears are for her and my thoughts are with her husband, family and wide circle of friends.
    May she know that she has been wonderful. A wonder.

  2. So beautifully – eloquently, expressed as always, Aydan.

    Connection through dance is so very special. It sometimes seems that the rush of everyday life doesn’t allow those special connections to be made so easily. To be ‘seen’ and ‘heard’ through the expression and trust of dance, and too through the friendships that germinate there, become so important and wonderful.

    I feel so blessed to have had Heather touch my life in the ways that she did, and grateful to have met her through the dance community.

    I feel sadness not only at Heather’s passing, but for the grief that her husband and family will endure. It’s always hardest on the ones left behind. My hope is that they find some joy in their memories of her, and the thoughts and prayers of those who surround them now.

  3. I met Heather in our 20s when we were volunteers in Africa with Canadian Crossroads International. We also facilitated a group together of to-Canada Crossroaders who had their own stresses and strains visiting Canada. I was then away from Alberta a long time and when I returned would see her only once in awhile. She taught a friend’s daughter and I would see her out and about. Heather put loads of energy into her friendships and I will always think of her from that self of 40 yrs ago, very fondly.

  4. I have sadness in my heart that I won’t have another conversation with her on this side of Heaven. My prayers go out to all who have been touched by her beautiful heart and contagious smile

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