Whisperers

Customers? Sometimes, you say things that you don't think I can hear.

Sometimes the things under your breath are mean.

You: How are you?
Me: I'm glad to be here!
You {whisper}: Yeah, right. They tell you to say that.

Sometimes you have a song floating under your mustache, and I don't let on that I can hear you singing along to the elevator track.

But sometimes there are moments when your broken heart is on your sleeve and I don't know how to help. Sometimes sadness is loud, like the lady who was belting out about her stepson's death, or today when that one little woman found out she had cancer, and she said it ever couple minutes.

"How are you today?"
"I'm sad. I found out I have cancer."

"Did you find everything you needed?"
"Yes. It was hard, because I'm sad because I was diagnosed with cancer."

"Would you like help out to your car?"
"Yes, please. I'm so stupidly weak because of the cancer."

Sometimes it's loud. Sometimes you need to be. But sometimes you still whisper.

Me: How are you?
You: Just wonderful!
Me: *continues conversation...*
You {whisper}: I'm lying.

Me: I hope your day gets better!
You {whisper}: I hope my life gets better.

Is it the same kind of need? The need to be noticed, to have pain acknowledged, to receive caring? Is that why you holler?

Is that why you whisper?

Even when you respond to my, "I'm sorry your stepson died," with a hand-wave and a loud, "Nah, it's natural," even when you downplay your suffering or reject acknowledgement that what's happened to you is wrong or hard, you need a voice. You need recognition. You need to be loved, whether or not you'll let on. Whether or not you know.

Please don't hold back. Don't worry about making other people sad. Let us share a little of the sorrow- you have so much, and we can take a little. We'll be okay.

Come through my line. If you need to whisper, it's okay. I'll hear you.