Healing through Movement

About six months ago, one of my active aging clients lost her husband due to complications from diabetes. Over the past year, I watched him transform from a fun-loving older man who embraced movement even though he was limited to a wheelchair and had only one leg to a man who endured an injury on his remaining leg that wouldn't heal. He stopped coming to class, but his wife kept attending. Stress and sadness lined her face as she solely carried the burden of caring for him, and she became distraught when it became clear to her that he lacked the will to live. A week later, he passed away with her by his side.

I thought she would take a break from class to grieve, but she kept coming and mourned the loss of him while we moved our bodies. I watched her tears brim and then fall like clockwork, second or third song in. She didn't try to hide her sorrow, wipe her tears away, or leave the room. She let tears slip down her face and bravely smiled at me as I encouraged the class to breathe deeply between songs, hoping to reset her parasympathetic nervous system. She may not have understood what was happening, but I knew that as hormones and endorphins were released during exercise, she was moving grief and stress out of her body. By the end of each class, her tears had dried, and her stress-lined face had relaxed; she got up, nodded a farewell, and left the room.

These past few weeks have been better for her. She doesn't cry in every class anymore unless a particular song triggers a memory, but healing takes time. I've learned from this incredibly strong woman that it's okay to be vulnerable, and I am honored that she has trusted me to be a part of her healing journey.