remembering tom ~ by kerri hanlon

Two years ago, a spirited gentleman entered Yoga Home. Tom came to us with his beloved wife and caregiver, Lorraine. They were interested in seeing how yoga might benefit Tom as he recovered from a traumatic brain injury.

As a yoga teacher, I have the absolute pleasure and privilege of getting to know people in a very real way.  There’s something about being with someone in the practice that affords opportunity for connection.  Students share with me their news – weddings, babies on the way, job changes, loss of family, pets and friends.   


In our Adaptive Yoga Program, our class is open to all, including those who benefit from specialized instruction to make the practice more accessible.  Inspired by my son, Sean, who had severe cerebral palsy, I started this class to ensure all had access to the practice of yoga, no matter their physical limitation.   


Two years ago, a spirited gentleman entered Yoga Home.  Tom came to us with his beloved wife and caregiver, Lorraine.  They were interested in seeing how yoga might benefit Tom as he recovered from a traumatic brain injury. 


In the early days, Tom walked into the studio with support from Lorraine.  His gait was mostly a shuffle and he was working on lengthening his stride and finding stability.  From this, I knew I could help.  We found Mountain Pose, or Tadasana.  Each week, I would meet Tom at the studio door and as soon as I said, “Tom, Tadasana” and stood in front of him mirroring the posture, everything changed.  He stood firm in his legs, lifted his chest, took his gaze up towards me and was able to walk without support.  His whole being brightened.   


Over the past two years, we’ve worked with whatever Tom needs.  On days he was fatigued, we took an extra-long savasana (final rest).  Lorraine and I joked that this was definitely Tom’s favorite pose.  I’d tuck Tom in with a blanket, place an eye sachet over his eyes and let him rest.  Then I would turn my attention to Lorraine – tucking her in in a similar manner and giving her a lavender foot massage.  I know how much Caregivers do, so this was a true gift to be able to give Lorraine a little TLC. 


Tom was one of my most dedicated students.  He rarely missed a week, even when he wasn’t feeling well.  On days he wasn’t at the studio, he practiced at home with a DVD I had given him.  Tom was my demo student when I was training other teachers on how to make the practice accessible and is featured in our Yoga Home online studio videos.   


The day before our first Adaptive Yoga class of this year, I got news that Tom had passed.  It brought me to my knees.  Tom and Lorraine had become such an integral part of our studio and such beloved members of our community, our entire team was devastated.  We did what you do when you grieve – we shared memories, looked at photos, held each other as we wept and found laughter when one of us would say, “Remember the time….” 

Tom and Kerri at Christmas time.


Tom was and is so near and dear to my heart.  He always reminded me of the best characteristics of my father, Jerry, and my son, Sean, both of whom have passed.  He was determined, committed and his sly sense of humor was always present.  Like my father, he was a man of few words, but had so much to share.  Like Sean, he didn’t let his physical challenges stop him from enjoying life.   


It’s a gift to know people in this way.  I often credit Sean for teaching me what it means to be fully present.  Sean demanded it of me – he demanded it of everyone.  I’m so grateful that after Tom’s last class, the week before Christmas, I sat with him in our community space and we just hung out.  It had been a rough morning for Tom, but he still showed up, blinking Santa hat and all.  While speech was challenging for Tom, we talked about our plans for the holidays, remembrances of Christmases past and I simply soaked him in.  Another thing Sean taught me – words aren’t necessary to communicate.    


We each have our ways of connecting with people.  In my experience, yoga has helped me connect in an authentic way, allowing us to more fully explore our common humanity and learn to be present for ourselves and others.  Being present.  It’s a gift that is ours to give.  Give it freely.