What I had not realized until arriving in the parking lot that this was the first time I had been back since Yvonne died. She is the one who got me doing power yoga. In fact my last few classes were with her. The tears flowed as the realization hit me. I meekly walked in and Holly, the instructor reminded me that it had been a while. She was just going to ask me about Yvonne when I told her why I was feeling a bit misty. She had not heard. She was immediately filled with grief and we both cried.
During class she dedicated the practice toYvonne and we both cried again. Believe me the tears and sweat were flowing during that hour. And it was all good. The heat allows you to sweat out the impurities and toxins in your body. So the mixing of my tears seeme so appropriate. And I miss my friend.
After class Holly and I hugged cried a bit more and agreed to have a better day. The memory of Yvonne still stings. I am grateful for the little time I had with her. I am still in awe of her fearlessness in spite of it all. I was honored to be her friend. And am thankful for the gift of beautiful memories.