I heard him before I saw you. It was like hearing my own child. I looked around to see if somehow I had forgotten he was there with me, but he wasn’t. The sound was so familiar. Then, there you were. I saw your precious boy in the grocery cart. He was talking to himself repeating words in a high-pitched voice. You were talking to him looking at him adoringly. I didn’t mean to stare. It wasn’t in a rude way. It was just so familiar. It was my own life in front of my eyes; like looking in a mirror. Forgive me for staring; I just don’t see it in front of me that often. Someone else in my shoes. It was the same voice, the same mannerisms, the same sounds as my son. I felt like I knew you both so well. I wanted to talk to you like an old friend. I wanted to buy you a cup of coffee and sit down and ask you all about him. I wanted to let you know that I was in the club too. I wanted to give you a hug and tell you what a great job you’re doing, and that you are a strong and wonderful mother. I wanted to hear your story. I wanted to share with you my journey, my son’s ups and downs, struggles and successes. I wanted to tell you to call if you needed a friend, or if you wanted to get the kids together. But, how can you do that with a stranger in the grocery store? I can only give you an understanding smile, keep walking, and silently wish you the best.