When my brother, Mike, lost his job, I let him stay with us without hesitation. He helped around and joked with my wife, Sarah. But one night, I came home late and found Sarah crying in the laundry room. Her face was all red. Turns out she had just gotten off the phone with her mom, who was going through some health stuff, and the stress was piling up. Mike had walked in while she was on the call, trying to ask something about dinner, and she’d snapped. He apologized, but she felt bad about yelling and just needed a moment alone.
I sat down next to her, took her hand, and we just breathed together for a while. I didn’t push her to talk, just held space for her until she was ready. After a few minutes, she wiped her tears and smiled a little. “I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all,” she said softly.
