There are about twenty of them, all lined up along the wall of the pool like ballerina’s on a bar. I stood back today and noticed their beauty. Tall, short, fat, skinny, apples, pears and hourglasses. Women of every imaginable shape and size were moving gracefully through their exercises in our aqua aerobics class.
They come to class with their hair and make-up done, adorned with jewelry. Marilyn wears the ashes of her husband in a locket around her neck, but never in the pool, of course. This morning, one of the ladies reminded her that she had forgotten to take it off. She quickly scrambled up the steps, went back into the locker room, and put the necklace aside until she would collect it again after class. Somehow I could tell that even an hour without nearness to “him” was just too long.
There are about 8 “Mary’s” in our class. One of the Mary’s was talking to Jann about how her husband had lost his hearing aide AGAIN this morning, and that was why they were so late. The other lady laughed as Mary said, “You know – it wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. I don’t help him until he starts to panic. Otherwise he will expect me to help him find every little last thing he loses. Do you know where it was?! In his pajama’s pocket!”
It was apparent to me that Mary would be fetching things for Tom a lot more now than she ever had, as Tom’s health is in somewhat of a serious decline. Though many people could misunderstand her story and think she was irritated with him, I could sense that she is proud to be the only woman in Tom’s life who could be trusted with such an important task. She doesn’t ignore his needs or crises; she just wants to empower him to keep some of his independence and masculinity. She wants him to have dignity.
When I first became their instructor 8 months ago, I had never even been to an aqua aerobics class in my life. I had much more experience teaching able-bodied young professionals the fine art of riding a bike in the dark that goes nowhere – spinning.
I went out and bought a bathing suit and showed up for class with my cover-up and was amazed at the sight of these women – all shapes and sizes, walking around in their bathing suits in total confidence. Cellulite, muffin top, back-fat, wrinkles and varicose veins, these women had it all! I was shocked at the ease with which they strode over to the pool steps and waded gracefully into the water. Talk about freedom!
We exercise, but mostly, they talk. They talk about their children, and the appointments that they’ve made for the week. They discuss the problems of aging that I had never considered. How do you get to the doctor’s office to have your hip replacement looked at, if you don’t want to be a burden on your working children?
They ask me about dating and if I’ve met anyone special. They wait excitedly all week to hear the outcome of “the talk” that I had with my boyfriend, eager to give me their wisdom and insight.
They tell me not to marry someone much older than I am, because he might be young now, but he won’t be young for long. They explain that soon I will be in the prime of my life, and he will need to be wheeled around to the doctor’s office for HIS hip replacement, and that won’t be much fun for me. I have to admit, I never thought of it that way.
I tell them that I’ve never had much ambition to devote to nabbing a husband for myself, and they sort of stare at me quizzically, even though moments before, Agnes had joked that when her husband dies, she’s “not going to get another one”, as if she were replacing a toaster oven on the fritz (which older people use with wild enthusiasm, by the way). She continues, “I already had children; I’m not taking care of another one! One man in my lifetime is enough for me!” and they all laughed in unison.
When I explain that the concept of marriage hasn’t historically been attractive to me, they ask questions, sincerely wondering how anyone could feel this way. I simply explain that I really don’t know any happily married people. They say, “people nowadays expect too much.”, and then they move on to another topic.
When they ask about whoever my boyfriend may be at that time, and I make some kind of unenthusiastic facial expression, they’re quick to get to the bottom of the story. If the cause of the disillusionment on my part is something that they find to be even remotely intolerable, they evoke the wisdom of their many years of “marital bliss” and say, “find someone else, honey”.
As I watched them do plia’s in the therapy pool and talking about the latest mystery novel they’re reading, I was breathless at their collective confidence and certainty. I stared at them in total awe. These women were mothers, wives, sisters and friends. They are allies, counselors, advisors and matriarchs. Some of them had been home-makers, and others had careers, which was not necessarily “en vogue” in their time.
They care genuinely about the health and wellness of their classmates and look forward to each 10 o’ clock class, enthusiastically awaiting the arrival of their friends. They take turns bringing in “get well” cards for classmates who are in the hospital or at home resting after a procedure.
As I’ve closely observed “the water babies” as I like to call them, I’ve learned so much about life, love and loyalty. I’ve learned about the pride that comes with being a woman and a lady, and I’m no lady – but, hell, I guess I could try...
I’ve given much thought to health, wellness, and self-care in my short 28 years. I’ve learned that good health is a gift that you give to yourself. I had always been independent. I had always had a strong desire to take care of myself and live my life on my terms. I was never going to be a candidate for putting others needs before my own, at the risk of my health, but what I hadn’t realized was that self-care comes from self-love, and that can only be learned in time.
Self-love is about confidence and security. It’s an air of boldness, courage, an investment with infinite returns. It’s making a space for yourself, even if it’s just one hour a day of aqua aerobics while your family and health concerns swirl around you. Self-love was the mark of true adulthood, though sadly, many people never will actualize it.
I realized that I had become a grown-up when I watched the water babies and accepted them as they were, without shallow judgments about their bodies, bathing suits, or books they read. I realized that I had become a grown up when I learned that there was so much that I didn’t know, and that I was incredibly fortunate to be learning from these glorious women twice a week. I was a grown up when I realized that I was not their teacher, I, too, was a student, eager to learn from their many years of experience and grace.
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