After my visit to the hospital, all I wanted to do was get home and hold my husband in my arms. My mother was completely fine but my heart felt worn out. I had been with her through her sickness from day one and I was exhausted.
No one ever talked about what it was like to be a caregiver to a chronically ill patient. It was a lot on them but then there was also a lot on you. It was like you carried their pain with you. Every new scar that marked their body was branded onto your heart. Every painful test and treatment became your burden too.
Before my mother got sick, I thought that I knew pain, but that was a lie. There was nothing more painful than watching the person that you love in the whole entire world suffering and you are powerless to ease their pain.
The elevator doors dinged open and I stepped into the penthouse only to be greeted by large arms coming around my small frame.
“Oh.” I laughed, dropping my handbag and circling my arms around him. “What is this for?”