Jackie's Smile

Jackie* comes to the yoga class I teach at the nursing home.  She dresses in bright lavenders, pinks and blue bird blues, colors promising spring amidst an extended deep-frozen winter.  After the stroke, it is hard for her to move her body which is folded for most of the day into her motorized wheelchair. After class, she waits by her bedside for an attendant to lift her into bed where she can unfold, eat dinner, and watch TV before sleep.  

With only a few regulars, I am never sure who will show up to our chair yoga class.  It depends how people are feeling that day, whether they can get out of bed, move without too much pain, participate in a group activity. I consider the courage it takes to come to a yoga class when movement is difficult, painful, uncontrollable, how disorientating it would be in a body that requires so much assistance and care. Surely, this is something that we all fear, our eventual body’s failing and the need for care. 

Jackie looks at me with surprise and some grit as she concentrates to get an arm to lift, fingers to bend, a foot to stretch. There is no rancor, disappointment, or frustration typical for most of us in yoga classes when our hands don’t touch the floor like the person on the next mat. Jackie’s body warms with the movement, her cheeks grow rosy even in this cold.  She smiles at me in the most sublime way so happy to be together in class with this wonder of body. 

I wonder where her laughter, lightness, and acceptance come from? 

When I leave the facility and step into the brisk cold, I see the winter sunset over the hill, lavender, pinks, and blues like Jackie’s blouse. My heart more tender than when I arrived breaks for those I have said goodbye to inside who no longer have the wherewithal to walk out the door. There is no more getting into a car to drive, shop at the grocery store for winter squash, stroll through a winter forest followed by a hot solitary bath. I am ashamed of how much of life I have taken for granted. 

When I say goodbye to my students, hands reach out for touch, heads nod in thanks, smiles shine through silence. There is God lingering in the hallway, piercing through the sunset, with us in our brokenness and confusion, streaming into and through our tender open hearts.

*Name changed for privacy