I want them to know.

I read this today and cried.

My child might have "an invisible disability," but we've endured our share of stares. I've seen both the stares and the look-aways, and I've wished that for just a moment they would put aside their discomfort and ask how they could help. The answer is usually nothing, but at least the question would show compassion. At least they'd be trying to understand. And, if they have kids, at least they'd be showing their children to not be afraid.

I knelt in that mall holding my child, trying desperately to calm him, trying to prevent him from hitting me, and I saw the other preschool mom's gaze. When my eyes met hers she looked away. What if, instead, she had walked over and put her hand on my shoulder? Whispered something? What if, instead, she had mouthed to me across the distance, "Are you ok? Can I help?"

I'm not mad at her. Maybe I would do the same if I were her. I just wish somehow I could change the world. I wish I could make all of us care more about the other than self. I wish I could make everyone understand how much my child is just like theirs and how much he wants to be loved. I wish I could tell the world how badly I hurt when they stare. How I then feel guilty and stupid for caring. It's a never-ending cycle of grief, this parenting thing.

Yes, there's also much joy. I just wish there were more opportunities for others to see the radiant joy, the infectious giggle, the tender heart of my son. I want them to know.