Every yoga session begins with a dedication. Last week, on Monday, November 1, I dedicated classes to Day of the Dead, a sacred time of connection. The day asks us to take time to think of our loved ones who have left this world. We are encouraged to look at photos, tell stories, and visit places we shared with a person who is no longer in this world. Every November 1st, my mother used to light a candle and make a little altar with photos of lost family members.
During the yoga session last Monday, one of the poses we did was Warrior Two. Christine Dunbar, one of the online yogis, wrote the following and gave me permission to share with you:
Warrior Two on the Day of the Dead: I stand in the present. I anchor one foot in my past, and step the other bravely in the direction of the future. The view in this moment is the light from the sun peeking over the mountaintops, through the newly bare branches of my November tree. A new day, full of potential, not bound by what has been or constrained by what is yet to come. I reach my arms out. Reaching back, I cannot change anything, but I can adjust my present and the past shape and strengthen today’s posture. I don’t turn my head to the past. I hold it in my mind’s eye and in my heart. Day of the Dead. Turning my gaze to face the future, I let my focus soften. Though I am mindful of what is to come, I don’t try to control it. I do my best to ground in my present, stretch and reach to the future with soft gaze and open mind. As I hold the pose, I am suspended in time. To make my present serve me the best way I can, I need small adjustments back and forward, grounding down, but reaching up. I can feel yesterday’s lessons, tomorrow’s possibilities, and today’s strength and love. I am a warrior.
One year ago today, my sister Toni was admitted to St. Mary’s Hospital, in Hobart, Indiana, with a high fever and deeply congested lungs. She was diagnosed with COVID-19. Toni fought hard to survive the virus. She fought for five months. My Warrior Sister bravely fought the devastating effects of COVID-19 until her death on April 6, 2021.
But before she died, I got to spend three precious months with the bravest warrior I have ever known: Toni! During the time I spend with her in Chicago, she gave me more than I could ever give her. I believe she gave me her Warrior Heart.
All of November and December of 2020, Toni was denied hospital visits due to hospital lockdown. She was utterly alone, isolated. The angst of isolation was magnified because Toni was a Special Needs adult. My eldest sister Nora was finally allowed to visit Toni the day after Christmas. Toni’s situation and health improved when she was transferred to Chicago’s RML Specialty Hospital on January 12, 2021. Suddenly, we were filled with hope of Toni’s recovery, of a life off the ventilator. During those last three months, from January 12- April 6, Toni’s life was rich. A legion of supporters from all over the world followed Toni’s journey on Caring Bridge. They sent Toni cards, gifts, art supplies, prayers, and mountains of love. I was her cheerleader, her coach, her link to the outside world of family and friends, her interpreter, her assistant, and her compassionate caregiver. She created art unlike anything she had ever produced before. The medical staff at RML gave her the best care. We were filled with much optimism.
Toni gave us her one last Warrior-Hurrah.
And this Warrior did not die alone. Nora and Toni’s godson, our nephew Vince, were holding Toni’s hands. Zina and I were on FaceTime with Toni for the last hours of her life. Nora had placed the iPad right next to Toni. Toni knew we were all there with her. She heard us telling her how much we loved her. Over the last three months of being with her, I had learned to read her lips perfectly. Over the death rattle, I heard her soundless whisper, loud enough to shatter our hearts. I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU she lipped repeatedly as she took her last breaths.
This blog post is an ode to Toni’s Warrior Heart.
My Warrior Heart, Our Warrior Hearts salute you, dear Toni.
Dear readers, thank you for holding me up when I thought I might crumble. I stand tall as Toni would have wanted me to stand. I hold your Warrior Presence in my Warrior Heart.
Namaste,
Fran
I have been thinking about Toni often recently … it’s hard to believe that it was a whole year ago that you told us on Zoom that she had COVID. Although I never knew her, I do believe I became stronger by witnessing (through you) her courage in bearing the unbearable. She gave all of us some part of her warrior heart.
I love your comment, Tina. I am moved by how profoundly Toni’s life and courage inspired you us and so many others. She gave us her love and courage, her innocence and her wisdom. We were so lucky to have had her presence in our lives. I often think of how proud I am to have had such a sister as Toni. Thank you for your sketch of her. I treasure it. Namaste, Fran
So beautiful Fran. I was changed by the journey you shared with all of us during that time, and by Toni’s strength and depth of love that was/is shared. Thank you for continuing to share your memories and writings about your sister.
Thank you,René. I know how much Toni’s strength and depth of love and the whole journey changed you. Her love and her entire being changed me (and others) profoundly and I know she moved and changed so many people. Big hugs to you! Love and Namaste, Fran
Such a beautiful blog post about Toni, Fran. Thank you for sharing Toni and this blog with all of us. We are still your cheerleaders. Love you.
Thanks, Bev! I feel your love! Always!!! I am blessed with a great family and a great big community of remarkable friends and yoga students. Love you, too! Namaste, Fran
Love to you, your family, and Toni. I think of her requesting poses for strong legs, because she wanted to be strong (and boy, she sure was). And of course Elvis Pelvis. Because she was fun, too!