Swallowed Up
A person can only hold in so much until the bottom drops. My mom taught me that thing that moms teach, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." As a generally polite person, my default mode is to hold my tongue, and as a pastor's wife, I hold my tongue often. Well, yesterday, I did not. Yesterday, I stood up and said out loud to a room filled with parents, grandparents and siblings of special needs children, "I can't listen to this anymore." The waiting room at my son's therapy center is small, overcrowded. If you wear your winter coat indoors, your sleeve touches the person next to you. There aren't enough chairs for siblings, so small children litter the floor with toys, books, themselves. It's an obstacle course to get my son with his unsteady gait through the waiting area and into the hallway leading to therapy rooms. I usually wait in the car because this is one of the few hours during