Our Version of Normal

Sometimes during this unique journey of having children with a disabilities, we feel alone or think  others don't understand our experience.  Sometimes though we are gently reminded that we aren't alone. A s we were sitting in the shade at a picnic table under the stands at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway  track this past May  inhaling  Jug's  fried chicken and biscuits during a Indy car practice session for the Indy 500, an older gentleman on his way to the upper level of the fancy suites stopped to say hi to our daughter Lily who has Down syndrome and autism. Lily was a few feet back from us sitting in her wheelchair playing on her iPad while covering her ears with a hand and an her opposite shoulder avoiding eye contact and ignoring everyone. Because she's often like this, it's rare for people to interact with her. Moving over to them, I prompt ed Lily to say hi. She looked up at the man (who looked a little like her Grumpa) and ...