This afternoon, I was picking up pizzas and had a short wait. As I was sitting inside staring out the window, a van pulled up. A dad got out and walked around to the sliding door. He opened it and let his 5-6ish year old daughter out. I watched them walk in. I knew right away she had autism. The way she was taking in the unique sights. The way she held her daddy’s arm. The way she self stimmed with her other hand. She was a beautiful little girl.
It was not an unusual exchange in my world. I’m a pediatric OT. Have been for 22 years. Twenty years ago my career was dominated by cerebral palsy. Today it’s autism.
This exchange will stay with me awhile, though, when I watched them leave. It had just begun to rain and as the dad was putting the pizza in the passenger seat, his daughter began to spin and dance in the empty parking spot next to the van. Not sure if it was the air pressure changing, the feel of the rain, or the unique colors of the sky at that moment, but her world knew it was different and it was wonderful. I couldn’t hear him through the window but I could see him calling her name. He was holding the seatbelt. He looked tired. He walked over to her and I was fully expecting him to grab her hand and pull her out of her world and back into his. Into ours.
But he didn’t.
He stood at the end of the parking space she was dancing in to protect her from cars and ... He watched her. On a Friday afternoon when we all just want the weekend to start, he stood in the rain and shared her world.
After a minute that seemed like an eternity she stopped dancing and saw him standing there. She skipped over to him and took his arm the way she had earlier. He helped her into the van, buckled her in, and took her home to their unique, beautiful world.