Exhaustion hit hardest when I was finally forced to slow down. I retreated to the couch of the hospice waiting room, without a second thought as to who would see me lying there or what they might think. In the meantime, YaYa did his cursive homework and BoBo was in his group session. I succumbed to the silent screams of pain.
I knew that I was not alone in my suffering. On the outside, the hospice waiting room seems peaceful but, when you get quiet enough, you can hear the cries of sorrow of those seeking relief from the ongoing ache. I closed my eyes, listened, and let the thoughts come and go. I took deep breaths and let a little of the loneliness release. Then, I began to pray for my children, for myself, and for the many who are suffering a similar pain.
As I lie there, I could hear the janitor as he pushed past me with his cart of cleaning supplies. He slowed with curiosity, wondering what my story was. Why was I lying there, in the waiting room of a local hospice? Then it hit him. I could hear his cart speed up as the realization finally hit him. It was grief.