smoke

Resistance Training

Resistance Training

My mother, Imogene, is learning how to flex old muscles and live in a new world.

“Look at me!”  she shouts this morning, executing a single perfect bicep curl with a 2-pound, fuchsia-pink dumbbell.

I’m standing in the doorway of the physical therapy room of the nursing home where my mother is showing off for her therapist. He’s handsome and sweet and worth the effort. The broad smile that fills his face when any of his patients accomplish even the smallest tasks works its magic. They keep trying and they recover, sometimes inch by inch, the lost ground that brought them here.