How My Son With a Disability Encouraged a Stranger in the Waiting Room
Arriving to work this morning, I took the time to turn my face towards the sky, the rain falling lightly on my face as I approached the entrance. There’s just something about walking in a light rain shower that transports me away from the stress and strain of this life. It calms me and usually leads to a reflective moment or two. Glancing at my phone, I got a notification that my Facebook memories were available to view, so I took a quick peek. The first memory took me back three years ago to the day I met H. The vivid colors and emotions of that encounter in a doctor’s office waiting room that day back in 2015 came back to me fully. I can see now through the lens of perspective and time that my life’s cares at that moment were more “light rain shower,” but H’s were a full torrent of fresh pain, her life having been ripped apart 10 days before we met. If I may be so blunt, not only was there a deluge, but a massive landslide of sorts had crashed upon her, the rain had been so heavy for her. Related: To the OBGYN Who Delivered My Child's Prenatal Down Syndrome Diagnosis Recalling this memory of H, and me sitting across from her that day with my son, Allan, in his wheelchair… all I could do was tear up at the powerful moment we shared. She sat there across from the two of us, her eyes watery, but her smile prominent. It occurred to my heart to ask, have I ever been so incredibly wounded in this life, but still found the steel in my spine to defy that pain and smile anyway? That was H that day. Having a discerning spirit, I immediately locked in on her and noticed how she observed my son in his wheelchair, making happy babbles, not minding the rest of us nor worried about whether he was too loud or not. As is usual in my life of Down syndrome and autism, Allan, for no reason I can quite understand, began to smack his head (self-injurious behavior). I tried to calm him, but he continued to cry, so I did what I’ve done so many times before. I began to clap my hands rhythmically as a little song and hand clapping brings Allan back to a calm state. To read more on this story, click here:How My Son With a Disability Encouraged a Stranger in the Waiting Room
