In an effort to start feeling better after a long protracted slog of coping with a slew of little annoying yet draining health stuff that is mostly a residue of neglecting my physical needs for the last long while, I joined a "pelvic floor exercise class". This class is a lot harder than it sounds, and yet also incredibly effective given that it is essentially a learning "how to breathe" class. As I breathed deep into my pelvic floor (or whatever !!) I inevitably had an emotional response during the second class. My mom died only 3 months ago. Before that she was very much alive---fully present, even though she lived with discomfort or bothersome side effects. Despite her vitality (or maybe because of it?) , she was very stoic and put up with a lot of nonsense before she died. We updated each other at least twice a day about things going on in our worlds. We exchanged tidbits on a continuous basis...what the kids were up to, what they made for a community meal,