Miss Bobbi

About four and a half years ago, after my breast reduction surgery, I decided it was time to return to ballet. I had taken a nearly eight year break and gained a lot of weight in those years. I was nervous about starting ballet again, fearing that I was clumsy and old and overweight, but I really, really wanted it. I started by looking in the phone book, but it was hard to tell who offered adult classes, and most of the studios were geared towards tap and jazz. I went to the local dancewear store to pick up a leotard, tights, and shoes, so that when I did find a place, I'd be ready to go. While I was there, I overheard someone asking whether there were any studios in town that taught adults. The reply was "Oh, you've got to go to Bobbi Bader." I inquired further, and the answer was that yes, she was the only teacher in town that was really a good adult teacher, primarily an adult teacher, and taught all levels. I gave her a call and she asked me some questions about my training, then invited me to a beginner class.

I came, and I really enjoyed the class. I was challenged, but felt invigorated to find that I still "had it," as it were. I could still dance. I may never be able to play poker, tennis, run a 10k -- but damn, I can DANCE. And it feels good. After class, Bobbi circled on a schedule all the classes I was welcome to attend. As time wore on, she complimented me on my arms. We talked about my childhood teacher, whom she knew (and reminded me of). We worked on my abdominal strength, my footwork, my balance and my turns. I went up a level or two. I joined the pointe class, then dropped it. I confided my joint issues in Bobbi, and she always worked around me, but still expected my best.

She worked us hard, but never failed to notice and compliment improvement. I'm struggling with the past tense.

Two weeks ago, we had a sub. Miss Bobbi had the flu. In the last 4 years, we've had a sub maybe twice. Last week, we had a sub again. I was surprised. People had called her, but weren't getting any information about what was wrong. One of my classmates is a doctor, but even when she called, all Bobbi would say was that "she had someone there 24 hours a day." Last night I got a call from a classmate and friend who said that Bobbi was in a nursing home, and as they weren't sure it was covered by her insurance, it would be great if I could continue to go to classes (and pay tuition). I, like everyone else, am more likely to skip when Miss Bobbi is not there, since only she really knows my ability, my potential, and who keeps the class moving at our preferred pace.

Tonight I got the call that she passed away. We still don't know how or why. I guess I'll leave it there. I'm sad. Miss Bobbi is younger than my parents.