Rose stops working after December 31st.
January first begins the Big Push to put everything in order for our Feb. 7 move to Belize. And, my goodness, there is a lot to do.
So, essentially “Pilates by Rose” will be no more. I don’t think that has completely sunk in as Rose has been extremely busy making sure every person gets an appropriate final session and a new Pilates home.
You see, these aren’t clients. They are friends — and Rose has a deep personal connection with every one of them. As an outsider who “married into” Rose’s Pilates/yoga community, I am constantly awed by how much they love and support each other while testing the fullest capabilities of their bodies in the name of good health.
This is going to be hard. How do I know? Because it has been hard already.
For more than a month now, Rose has been fretting about the future of each person, as if each were her own child. She worries about whether they will continue their exercise regimen. She has tried to find suitable replacement Pilates classes and instructors. She has worried about the specific injuries from which some have been recovering.
Cute puppies in animal shelters don’t get this kind of love and attention.
Her days are long, sometimes stretching from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. but Rose somehow manages to greet each person with boundless enthusiasm. Sometimes there are squeals of agony coming from the studio; as often there are peals of laughter; and always, the voice of Rose counting out the cadence of an exercise.
Amid it all, problems get solved, rumors and gossip are traded, news conveyed, recipes shared and advice dispensed. There is also commiseration over family woes and a collective mourning when a dear friend is lost, like Tracy Barton Hostetter who died from cancer this year.
Rose may be teaching Pilates but I say she is a lot like your neighborhood bartender with the sympathetic ear and gentle encouragement.
I hear this all day long and marvel at the bonding and enthusiasm.
But at the end of the day, I am the one who sees the exhaustion. By 8 p.m. there isn’t a whole lot left in this ball of fire. But it is OK. I understand. I gave myself to a career that probably, too often, left too little for my family.
But this is who we are, Rose and me: All in.
If she were anything less, she would not be the woman I fell in love with at first sight.
Starting Jan. 1 we will be all in together as we prepare for Belize.