A Time to Share

I was sitting on a bench outside the hospital when a woman approached. “Is it okay if I sit down?” she asked, pointing at the space next to me.

“Sure,” I said, inwardly disappointed. I was on break from my work as a therapeutic musician, and really needed some time to myself. The last patient I’d worked with had become increasingly agitated. “Get out!” he had yelled, in an Alzheimer’s haze. He threw a cup of water on the floor and shouted, “I don’t know you!” I felt tired and discouraged, knowing I would be working with him again after my break.

The woman took a deep breath and sat her large, colorful purse between us. “I’m here to visit my mother,” she said. “She broke her hip last week and has been so difficult to deal with. I need to rest a minute before going to see her. To build up my courage.”

I regarded her with new eyes: Here we were, two strangers, carrying similar burdens. I knew this wasn’t a coincidence. “I hope everything goes okay,” I said. “I’m also dealing with a difficult person today.”

Over the next half hour, we shared our anxieties, fears, and hopes about our respective situations, and ended by offering prayers for each other. “Thank you,” we said, almost at the same time, laughing. We knew the day might yet be a hard one, but oh, how our burdens were lightened by sharing them!