What lies beneath

I noticed him immediately as I walked thru the parking lot.  An adult that walks just like Nick.  Hips thrust forward, shoulders back as he dragged his left foot forward, then his right, left, right, left right.  A labored shuffle as he worked to keep up with the man walking next to him.  Oh how I wanted to talk to him.  To ask him if he'd been through the same barrage of poking, prodding and testing.  Surely he must have some definitive answers by now. I watched his reflection in the screen of the ATM in front of me as he walked into the grocery store.  I finished my transaction and stood quietly for a moment, the knot in my stomach moving slowly upward.  

I turned and walked thru the doors he had entered.  With hands pushed deep in my pockets I walked slowly across the front of the store, peering down each aisle, wondering what I'd do when I found him.  But he had disappeared.  Gone in the blink of an eye.  

As I found my way back to the exit a bright yellow jacket caught my attention.  Another man, with the exact same walk.  The same labored shuffle.  He had a tag hanging around his neck that matched the tags of the other special needs adults surrounding him.  They were on an outing of some sort, now congregating at the store I was leaving.  

I didn't make it back to the car before a fat tear trickled slowly down my cheek.   

I remembered the curious looks we had all ignored while vacationing a few weeks ago.  The way a young girl had strained to get a better look in the orthodontists waiting room.  The adult couple who stared and whispered at the buffet.  Those things build up quietly in a mother's heart over time until one day something unexpectedly stirs them to remembrance.  

Maybe tears were created to wash them away.