She was elegant. Her walk was elegant. Her dresses — frothy, chiffony, with full tule petticoats — were elegant. She wore high heels to wash the kitchen floor — and to do every other thing in life. Her gestures were elegant — fluid and gentle. Her pace through life — which was not a rose garden — was elegant. Her resilience and persistent joy were the absolute height of human elegance. Shortly before she died at age 92 she taught me to tango.