Each of us, as yoga teachers, has a memorable student; one who is struggling but still makes it to class, no matter what.

One of mine was Jean, a woman my age, who arrived in my Gentle Yoga class while I owned the studio in Salt Lake.  She was fit and feisty, a retired French teacher, who had never done yoga but had recently noticed her balance lacking and wanted to 'fix' it.  So we worked, and worked and worked. But, nothing worked.

For the many months after she arrived in my class, she went to physicians searching for a reason her balance was leaving her.  Finally, almost one year into our relationship, an answer:  PSP (progressive supranuclear palsy).  A disease in the Parkinson's family, but with a more definitive end result -- most patients will pass within 5 years of diagnosis.  The disease affects balance, ability to swallow, vision; a real nasty 'bugger'.

However, Jean came to class the week after learning of the diagnosis almost relieved -- as if to say, 'finally, I know what is going on with me'.  We continued.  She always had a spot reserved by the post, and she always arrived early to help me get props out and to chat. When I would ask her how she was, her usual answer was "practically perfect".

As the disease progressed, Jean stopped driving and friends or husband brought her to class; many days I or one of the other students drove her home.  Students rallied to her support in class as well -- helping her up when she fell and offering her words of praise and encouragement. Her pat response upon falling -- "I'm okay".

When the disease reached a point at which she was falling quite often, I asked her if I could share her diagnosis with the rest of the class. Why? It only seemed fair to the others in class to understand why she was falling and what to do when it happened.  She agreed, with one caveat -- 'don't tell them about the dying part'.  So, that day, I told the class that Jean had finally found out that she had a condition that would rob her of her balance; if she fell, we would pick her up and continue.

So, we continued. Modifications in our poses happened. A cane became part of her accessories. A wild and colorful one, much like I imagined she had been before PSP.

Last year, in March, about 3+ years since I first met Jean, I moved away from Salt Lake. One of my going away gifts from her was a picture frame, with the words "Gentle, my ass" written on one side; "I'm okay" on the other. I placed it on our bookshelves, eye level, and have passed it (and looked at it) every day we have lived in this house.

Jean passed earlier this month. Interesting that she had been on my mind over the past 2 weeks, I'd even been talking about her in my 'new' Gentle Yoga classes here in California.  Such a brave friend.  I miss her.

I hope you all had a wonderful Easter weekend, and that you have a great day and week!