Do you know who Jane Fonda is?
You should. If you don't, check out her incredible documentary Jane Fonda in Five Acts
on HBO (you're welcome, Jane, just helping a sister out).
I grew up intrigued (big surprise) by exercise. I asked for an ab-doer for my thirteenth birthday and cried when my parents tricked me into thinking they hadn't ordered it for however many installments of $19.99. To be honest, I was incredibly lazy and wanted to find a way to have abs without working out. The ab-doer looked like just the trick! I was devastated to find it doesn't actually do anything. I moved on to fitness VHS tapes. Yes, VHS. My sister and I found, of all things, a Jane Fonda workout video at our local library. Do I have to tell you the impact this has had on me? I will.
There was Jane Fonda on my television. She was inviting me to do "the workout" and wore the craziest clothes I'd ever seen. Her hair was as huge as her waist was tiny. I loved her. I did the workout. My thighs burned and I was turned on to VHS and, later, DVD workouts in the comfort of my own home. My fitness would take a long and winding journey and place me on various stages leading workouts throughout the next couple of decades, but it all began with a rented VHS of Jane Fonda's workout. I knew nothing except that she was fabulous. I had no idea she built an empire from scratch and donated all of the money, or that she led political protests and stood up for the rights of voiceless men and women at the great cost of her own career. I just knew she was lovely.
Flash forward almost twenty years and you'd find me last summer in a very dark moment, sitting on my couch in a beautiful apartment in Center City, Philadelphia, sobbing and screaming into a pillow. My sister passed away in April 2018 and for months I struggled to find a way to keep living without her. I knew I owed it to my surviving family to stay with them but I couldn't fathom life would become worthwhile. I had no plan or intention of suicide, but I was frightened at the life stretched out before me without my sister and didn't want it.
Enter Jane Fonda.
I somehow found my way to her documentary and continued to bawl for several hours as I watched, googled, rewound, re-watched, etc. until I felt something awaken. If Jane Fonda has a message it's that it's never too late. This has become my mantra. It's never too late.
Life can be devastating and there is a lot we cannot control. We often survive unspeakable pain, but how do you thrive again after a tragedy? You have to find hope. You have to believe that it's never too late, that a chance to do something great is around the corner and it's your
duty to turn that corner. I truly couldn't find that hope inside of me until I had a front row seat to someone else purposely reconfiguring her life over and over until she loved it.
A few months later I walked into Street Tails Animal Rescue and saw a beautiful little old lady in the corner cage. She was old, blind, and inexplicably missing patches of fur. I filled out an application and took her home a week later. Guess what I named her?
That was almost six months ago. Jane Fonda and I are now working really hard together to spread hope. She and Kevin boop noses every morning and light up my entire world. I start each day with joy. I can't believe I wake up happy, again.
It's never too late.