I've thought about writing this post for a while.
I thought about it when M., a woman I've known and admired for several years stopped coming to exercise class. She and I had served together on a town committee. She was smart, physically active, and had a fun sense of humor. She also had dementia. She was clearly having trouble in class following directions and would do her own variation of the exercise. I didn't worry too much as long as she wasn't doing anything dangerous. However, her family felt she couldn't be left alone during the day and the last I heard she's attending senior day care where she has more supervision than I could give her.
Something similar happened with J. I didn't know her well, but she had recently moved out of her own house and in with her daughter. She was sometimes confused and not always sure she was in the right place. A few months later I was told that she was now in senior day care.
D. started with exercise class at his doctor's suggestion. He was only there a few weeks and then entered the Soldier's Home. A few weeks later, I saw his obituary.
And most recently, there was R. A friend of hers told her about the exercise class. R. was sassy and funny and talked a lot during class, complaining about how hard the exercises were. She made everyone laugh. I was so surprise to get a phone call one weekend telling me that R. had had a massive stroke and died 2 days later. The class on Monday morning was just not the same and I had a hard time concentrating on it.
I've lost a lot of friends from that class during the last couple of years. I only knew them in that context, but each of them added something special. It's very sad.
But there is an upside - a very big upside - and that is all of the people who share with me their successes. "I tripped and was able to regain my balance. I didn't fall!" "I picked up the bag of groceries and carried it inside the house." "I stood up from the sofa without a problem." And many, many more.
