Lessons in Hot Yoga and on Facebook


A couple of days ago, I went to a Hot Yoga class in Loveland, Ohio at a studio called “Simply Power Yoga”.  There were 22 of us sweating profusely in the over 100 degree heat for an hour and fifteen minutes.  At the beginning of class, the teacher read the following to the class.

Letter from a Mother to her Daughter:

“My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.

If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.

When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?

When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day… the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.

If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.

And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.

When those days come, don’t feel sad… just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.

I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you… my darling daughter.”

- Unknown

Here is a photo of my mother and I on a cruise back in 2004.  She passed away in June of 2011.

SCAN0100

As the teacher read this…I found myself welling up with tears, trying to wipe them away without anyone noticing, and remembering back to all the times I wasn’t patient with my mother.  When she was finished reading…she made eye contact with me and knew I was touched.  Then yesterday on Facebook I saw the same letter posted on an acquaintance’s page.

I also remember all of the times I was patient and sweet to her.  Calling her almost daily.  Buying her diamond rings and hiding them in her glass of champagne or wrapping them in multiple boxes.  Flying her to see me in Germany when I was in the military.  Quitting my job to take care of her when she was in a nursing home and finally, again, the week before she passed.

I realized that we are too hard on ourselves.  We beat ourselves up.  I learned the lesson of forgiving myself and realizing I’m not perfect!

27 thoughts on “Lessons in Hot Yoga and on Facebook

  1. I am going to see my Mom this weekend, up in Cleveland. I wish she lived closer but am blessed that I have her. Thank you for this letter from your yoga class, I realize it was meant for me this time. I appreciate seeing it to remind me to be patient, loving and forgetful of her repetition and remember how blessed we are to have (had) great Moms! Thanks for checking and liking my recent post! I liked going to this and seeing it and its story about your times with your mother. Great~ giving her diamonds and trips!

  2. I love this. My mom just turned 85 and we speak daily with at least one weekly dinner. I have to stop myself from being impatient with her, and this letter reminded me to look at life through her eyes, not just my own. Thank you.

  3. Your last three lines are a wise mantra for all of us…You did so many wonderful things for your mother — I’m so sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing such beautiful insight!

  4. What a lovely post and the photo of you both – wonderful. Can see were you got your looks from.
    My mum will be 91 this July and she are clear as crystal, but her body has given up on her – not fair.

  5. This is especially poignant for me, as I watch my parents age and see their health deteriorate. My mother’s memory is becoming increasingly fragile, so I want to sit her down in front of my video camera and have her recount her life story. She has some truly fascinating tales, and I want to turn them into novels. I fear I may not have either one of them for too much longer.

    • I did that with my mother. I paid $20 for a thing called Living Legacy online. He sends you a packet with questions to ask and tips. I didn’t videotape her, but did a video of photos and I spoke on the video telling about her life. I showed it at her memorial service.

  6. Very touching!! My mom died before she was old — at 69, when I was just 33, and I always am so jealous of women who have had the chance (and I know it’s challenging, too) to see their moms into old age. Happy New Year, Sherri — and guess what, I went to a Hot Yoga class today, too! Yay, us!

  7. My mother died way too young, but I treasure every moment I had with her. People who still have their mothers are SO lucky. I hope they appreciate the time they have together. This was a very sweet post, Sherry. Thanks for reminding us how precious mothers are.

  8. What a beautiful, touching and timely post! Thank you for the shout out. I will be sure to check out some of your other posts and follow along. Glad to meet you.

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