My family is falling apart.
We’ve become family after spending three years of early mornings together. We get to our stationary bikes at 6:15 a.m., they turn on the music and we sweat. We sneak in celebrity gossip, brag about favorite sports teams and call out class slackers.
We are: Daughters. Mothers. Fathers. Brothers. Teachers. Writers. Accountants. Preachers. Executives. We are family.
But we’ve been put on notice. The gym is under new ownership, and that could mean a closure. Classes are getting smaller; supplies are scarce. I can find a new gym easily. But what about my family?