In the movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, the bride's father had a fix for everything: Windex. Got a dirty table? Use Windex. Got a cut on your finger? Spray it with Windex.
My father also had his own fix-all. Have trouble breathing? Do tai chi to expand lung capacity. Fat? Do tai chi to sweat it out. Got a mortgage problem? Do tai chi to get clearer thinking. In fact, he articulated clearly to me one day: The Middle East would not be trying to kill each other if everyone there just took up tai chi. In his random logic, he was right.
Dad tried to teach me tai chi. But I rejected it. I didn't want to exercise with white-haired people in their 80's.
But today, I signed up for a tai chi class. I've been trying to go for six months. But the timing was never quite right. Today, I made it to class. The class is taught by two retired women in their sixties. There are four students in class. Three are senior citizens. How do I know? They all asked for the senior's discount. Two have physical ailments.
Hank, he must be close to 70, has trouble walking. When he entered the office, he collapsed into a chair by the door. The instructor gasped and said, "Oh, he fell." Hank said, "Yeah, but good thing this chair was here." This is the second time he's taking this beginner's course. I can barely understand him as he talks with a heavy British brogue.
Marilyn came in slowly with a cane. Osteoporosis, she said.
Cynthia seems okay so far. I have knee problems, she said. But so do I. After a few years away from tai chi, she has returned to start at the beginning.
They all seem like very nice people. I had to smile. I am exercising with retirees after all. Dad would have been proud.
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