I smile and nod in a line of women
at middle school registration,
listen to lists of their children’s
social escapades, club athletics, academic merits.
I stare down at my sandals,
feel the burn of my morning yoga class,
remind myself that I will soon be back
in the cocoon of my car.
I slip easily into conversation
that we are the kind of family
that does one sport at a time —
a little swimming, some flag football.
I tuck my hair behind my ear.
They don’t need to know that my son
battled for his development, years of therapy
now behind us, to stand here today.
We all walk back to our SUV’s,
our heads bent into cellphones.
I want to crawl into their cars,
remove their sunglasses,
unravel the stories
that keep them up at night.
I wave a mom ahead of me into traffic,
a gesture of muted inclusion,
her ache I will never know.
This is not mine alone,
this anxious twist in my stomach, my breath,
that whispers, we are doing this wrong.
©
Jennie Linthorst is published in Foliate Oak, Forge, Kaleidoscope, Literary Mama, Mothers Always Write, Sanskrit, and The Art of Autism. Her two books of poems, Silver Girl (2013), and Autism Disrupted: A Mother’s Journey of Hope (2011), were published by Cardinal House. Jennie is certified in poetry therapy from the National Federation of Biblio/Poetry Therapy. www.