I see you. I saw your beautiful daughter too. I watched her as she paced from the end cap to the conveyor belt. She would pace to your side then walk back to look at the jelly beans as they slowly made their way to the cashier. The sounds of a crowded store intensified as I saw her eyes move from you to those around her. It was like I could almost see her gears turning. I saw you carry on your conversation with the cashier while keeping a close eye on your girl. I felt your attentiveness to her while giving her space to move. 

When your daughter paused and made eye contact with me, I smiled and waved. I did not expect her to wave back, I just wanted to share in the social interaction with her. You quickly pulled down your mask to apologize. “I’m sorry, she has Autism” was your quick response. My response could not have been fast enough. My words did not form inside my mouth in the way my heart intended. I could only mutter, “it’s okay, my daughter has Autism too.” 

I saw the instant relief in your eyes. I saw the longing you felt for connection with another mother. Within those few moments, I knew that you had been awake for almost 24 hours trying to set up a better sleep schedule for your daughter. This sense of camaraderie fell over me as I am no stranger to sleepless nights and overstimulation.  Within a matter of minutes, we discussed: homeschool, private school, and public school. We talked about sleep schedules, potty training, and medication. 

We said our goodbyes as we exited Target and I saw the sense of calm wash over you. I heard your thanks to me as you stated “It’s so nice to hear of another mother of a girl with Autism”  I wanted to say three thousand different things to you. I wanted to talk more about that sweet blue-eyed girl of yours. I wanted to offer up my home for an overstimulated girl playdate. I wanted to let your daughter swing in my back yard. I envisioned my daughters taking her by the hand and leading her to our playroom. I thought about glitter, barbies, and self-stimming. 

I didn’t give you my name or a number and by the time I made it to my car, I was full of regret. I loaded my groceries as my heart raced. I knew that I needed to find you in the parking lot. I knew that I needed to connect with you. US moms have to rally together. So I risked looking like a stalker by driving around the parking lot looking for you. All because I just wanted to tell you that you are doing an amazing job. I needed to say that your beautiful daughter is so very blessed to have such a wonderful mother. SO, to the mother in line in front of me at Target; I see you. I see and understand all of your thankless work. I understand those sleepless nights. I get the constant worry and stress. Please know that you are doing an amazing job! And you my friend, you are my role model!

For more stories of Autism and mothering follow me at www.facebook.com/pickledproverbs and on instagram at @pickledproverbs

https://pickledproverbs.comthe-parallel-universe-of-autism-part-1-the-unseen/