Today a woman whose husband had been battling cancer came to my cycling class. This was a woman who had eyes that always sparkled, a humor that engaged the rooms. Her presence was always one of energy, brightness, and verve. As I saw her walk toward the gym in front of me, I could see the change in her - the spring was gone from her step. There was a certain resignation in her carriage, a mournful gait in her motion.
I met her outside the studio door. It was her first class since the death of her husband three months ago. The aura of grief enveloping her was palatable as we began to speak. Although she also was dealt a one-two punch as other things in her life collapsed, there was an energy tingling beneath that shroud of sorrow. She is a fighter; she is a survivor. I recognized it in her eyes, through the tears that couldn't help but flow. That sparkle was diminished, but not extinguished. I noticed how she did what I always did - fought back those tears, tried to continue with a steady voice and an inner resilience. Respect for her welled as my heart bled with hers.
My spirit cried out in empathy - this a club you do not want others to join. Let the ranks stay small! It is wrenching to see another woman going through this. Now in the Saturday spin class, there are three of us near in age going through this horror. What a sad commonality to bond over, to find a kinship in!
"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." Romans 12:15
The Lord is near to those who are discouraged; he saves those who have lost all hope. (Psalm 34:18)
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