electric shimmy

What was your hardest performance? I don’t mean like you stayed up all night and were tired, or hurt your toe and could barely dance, the hardest emotionally. The kind where you just want to fall down and cry. Mine was the day after my dog died. What made it the worse was that she died unexpectedly, and we never new why or if she was sick, she just died. The following day, it was a freezing day at the end of October and I had to perform at a local festival with another dancer. Not just one dance, but we had an entire set. Every time the breeze would blow, I would tear up. I would have to face away from the audience and gather my composure. I remembered the day not long ago where my Ellie and I were sitting on the bench in the sunshine with her head on my lap. I often wonder if she knew it was her time to go and that was her way of saying goodbye to me. My life has not been the same since my dogs died, both within a year of each other. I still struggle, I still cry.

I am now faced with another loss. I sit here writing through tears because I just feel I need to get this out. My Grandpa ‘Papa’ died early this morning. I feel so happy I got to speak with him yesterday, but so guilty that I haven’t been up to visit. I was working on a DVD of family photos and videos and my daughter even made him a Get Well Card, which he will never get to see. I was lucky to be the oldest grandchild and remember some of the time I spent with them as a small kid. I still remember what the old house looks like. I remember the times when I would visit Vermont, see the cows, visit Basketville, and go to Santas Land. I remember when my Nana and Papa took me and my cousin to FL to Disney. They came to visit in 2007 and I remember him asking me how my ‘hootchi cootchi’ dancing was going. ‘ I just laughed and said it was good. LOL. This weekend is the Down East Festival, a wonderful weekend of workshops, dancing, and fun and again I am faced with another very difficult performance, two in fact. I hope I can hold it together tonight, it will be hard. Sometimes all you can do is cry, so bare with me this weekend. It will not be easy.

Fred Robling
March 1, 1929 – July 18, 2014