Wednesday afternoon at the veteran’s home where I teach yoga and mindful awareness wasn’t as entertaining as it usually is. The guy who had shown up for every class and was really getting into it – bringing me printoffs of yoga postures and asking questions constantly, and also being as much of a smartass as I am on a regular basis – wasn’t there.

I knew he didn’t have a good attitude towards authority, and I knew he was struggling with addiction issues, so my first thought wasn’t a positive one. This is a facility where the guys can come and go as they please, and most have drug or alcohol problems they’ve been dealing with for years. I started the class without asking about him just in case he showed up late. He didn’t.

The class was chatting a bit after our savasana, so I asked, “Where’s D today?”

“Oh yeah…he kinda went off the deep end…”

“What do you mean?”

“He relapsed. And he caused a scene. And then he left.”

“Damnit. I was worried about him.”

“Yeah…we are, too.”

He had never been rude or impatient with me, but I had watched him be that way towards others. It was obvious that he thought most of the world was against him.

And now, he’s gone, and one of the few people who was able to get through to him (me), can no longer do that.

There will never be a time when I’m not emotionally invested in these people, and times like this will always suck more than I can articulate.