A Lesson In Receiving
Flipping through the list of activities, my husband said, “Let’s take a yoga class together.” We were on vacation with my parents, one of the last we would take with my Dad his Parkinson’s with Dementia was progressing, and he needed a lot of care.
“Sure,” I said hesitantly. Classes aren’t really my thing but doing something with my husband sounded fun, and I knew I needed to relax.
The only glitch was my Mom had scheduled massage appointments for her and my Dad at the same time. Mom’s message started a little before Dad’s and went a little longer. So we made the plan that my husband would help my Dad get ready for his massage before our yoga session, and when my Dad was done, the therapist would come to get us in the yoga room. It was a great plan on paper. But as they say, ‘the best-laid plans...’
The good news was, my husband and I were the only two people in the class. We settled in and started our practice getting individualized help from the instructor. But it turned out the timing wasn’t as fabulous as we thought. The massage therapist popped into the room about 15 minutes into our yoga session to tell us Dad’s massage was over. So mid-downward-dog, my husband ducked out of the room to help my Dad. I continued the yoga class solo, embracing the gift of time and peace that my husband was giving me. Soon my Dad and my husband joined us in the yoga room. My husband whispered, “I couldn’t find your Mom, so I brought him in here to hang. I hope that is ok?” “Sure,” I said as my husband jumped back in and tried to catch up to our yoga practice.
We quickly realized that this plan wasn’t going to work. Dad couldn’t understand that he needed to be quiet and just watch us. He interrupted, asked questions, and kept moving around. It was a comedy of errors. My husband kept trying to run interference, and then finally he said, “Enjoy yourself, I got this,” as he ushered Dad out of the room.
As I laid there in child’s pose, I struggled with the time my husband had given me. “He is my dad, my responsibility; I shouldn’t be enjoying myself while my husband shoulders the burden,” I thought to myself. But then, as I stretched up to the sky, I thought, “No, he is giving you this time. Take it.” So I did. I stretched and breathed and gathered insights from the yoga instructor. I trusted that my husband was taking care of Dad and ok with everything. I had a fantastic time.
As my husband and I walked back to our room, I thanked him for that time. And he gave me a big smile and said, “Thank you for taking it. I wanted you to enjoy the class, and I am glad you did.” I will never forget his expression and the joy he felt for being able to help me. He was happy to give me that gift and was grateful that I was willing to receive it.
We are living through exceptionally anxious times. COVID, politics, climate change, mask debates. I have caught myself pushing down my anxiety, soldiering on, and repeating “I got this” to myself. I admit once I start this cycle, it is hard to stop without some serious intention. But last week, I remembered this story and the joy my husband had from giving, so I have tried to be more intentional about asking for help. I don’t always succeed but just have the intention there helps me remember I don’t have to do it alone. Pushing down my anxiety makes me and those around me miserable.
When we can allow others to give to us, life opens up a little bit.