Dear Special Needs Mom,
Today I stood and watched you lower a ramp from your vehicle, and get down on all fours to unlatch safety belts from your child’s wheelchair.
I noticed when one of the belts snapped your hand causing it to bleed.
You didn’t flinch, nor tend to your wound.
You walked around to the other side of the car where I watched you unload the other half of your heart…your youngest child waiting patiently for you to free him from his seat.
You braced the wheelchair with your leg so it didn’t inadvertently roll into the street, while lifting your other child out of the vehicle.
You reached for your purse, one grocery bag, and a bottle of hand sanitizer that you placed in your pocket.
Holding one hand of one child and pushing your other son’s wheelchair with the other, I caught you briefly recognizing your wound, and although I’m sure it was throbbing you carried on as if nothing had happened.
For a moment your eyes caught mine.
My eyes holding back the tears that recognized so much of myself in you.
For I too, am just like you.
I wondered what you were rushing into the store get; a carton of eggs, chocolate pudding for your children, and a specific brand of apple juice – the only one that your child with special needs would drink – knowing that your one small bag could only hold a handful of essential items.
I was walking to my car in awe of another strong mom, when I turned back into the store.
A flower display not far from the entrance with a handful delicate
flowers - daisy mix with pink carnations and a single rose caught my
attention.
A bouquet card lay in the middle.
I made my purchase and quickly filled out the card:
“A Special Needs Mother’s Love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Love a fellow Special Needs Mom”
I left the bouquet on the windshield of your car, hoping that it would bring you sunshine in a day that is often filled with a balance of difficulties and joy.
Every now and again sometimes we just need someone to see us, to know we’re not invisible and we’re not walking the journey alone.
Love,
Today I stood and watched you lower a ramp from your vehicle, and get down on all fours to unlatch safety belts from your child’s wheelchair.
I noticed when one of the belts snapped your hand causing it to bleed.
You didn’t flinch, nor tend to your wound.
Without pause you continued on. You gently rocked the wheelchair into a safe position to take it down the ramp and out of the vehicle, mindful of your little one’s arms and legs.
Raising the ramp with one hand and holding onto the wheelchair with the other.You walked around to the other side of the car where I watched you unload the other half of your heart…your youngest child waiting patiently for you to free him from his seat.
You braced the wheelchair with your leg so it didn’t inadvertently roll into the street, while lifting your other child out of the vehicle.
You reached for your purse, one grocery bag, and a bottle of hand sanitizer that you placed in your pocket.
Holding one hand of one child and pushing your other son’s wheelchair with the other, I caught you briefly recognizing your wound, and although I’m sure it was throbbing you carried on as if nothing had happened.
For a moment your eyes caught mine.
My eyes holding back the tears that recognized so much of myself in you.
For I too, am just like you.
Temporarily disguised as just a person on the street corner, my special needs life waiting for me at home.
I wanted to approach you to say hello, but I could see your determination and focus and knew that I would only serve as a distraction from your shopping mission.I wondered what you were rushing into the store get; a carton of eggs, chocolate pudding for your children, and a specific brand of apple juice – the only one that your child with special needs would drink – knowing that your one small bag could only hold a handful of essential items.
I was walking to my car in awe of another strong mom, when I turned back into the store.
A flower display not far from the entrance with a handful delicate
flowers - daisy mix with pink carnations and a single rose caught my
attention.
A bouquet card lay in the middle.
I made my purchase and quickly filled out the card:
“A Special Needs Mother’s Love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Love a fellow Special Needs Mom”
I left the bouquet on the windshield of your car, hoping that it would bring you sunshine in a day that is often filled with a balance of difficulties and joy.
Every now and again sometimes we just need someone to see us, to know we’re not invisible and we’re not walking the journey alone.
Love,
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
.jpg)
