Looking in a mirror on aisle 5

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.