Yesterday, I sat in my car outside Target, watching my son, Jack, walk inside alone.
It wasn’t just another errand — it was a milestone years in the making.
Jack is 18 now. Independent, confident, and learning to navigate the world one moment at a time. But it wasn’t always this way.
Two years ago, he would never have gone in without me. He’d reach for my hand every time we entered a store — a quiet, unspoken plea for comfort amid the chaos of lights, sounds, and crowds. His hand in mine was his anchor.
Three years ago, the sound of classical music over the loudspeakers would send him into panic. We’d have to leave everything behind — the cart, the groceries, the plan — just to get him out where he could breathe again.
Five years ago, in this very same Target, he had a meltdown so overwhelming it broke my heart. All because we couldn’t find the holiday M&M’s. I remember kneeling on the cold tile floor beside him, whispering that it was okay while strangers walked past with puzzled looks. What they didn’t see was a child struggling not out of defiance, but out of sensory overload — a storm inside his mind.
I used to go home and cry. I’d wonder if it would ever get easier for him. If he’d ever be able to do something so simple, so ordinary, as walk through a store on his own.
And yet, yesterday, I saw him do it.
He opened the car door, gave me a quick grin, and said, “I’ll be right back.” His voice was calm. His stride steady. I sat frozen for a moment, afraid that if I blinked, the moment would pass — that maybe I was dreaming.
He walked through those Target doors, shoulders tall, no fear in his eyes.
For him, it was a simple shopping trip. For me, it was proof of how far he’s come. Proof of resilience. Proof that progress, no matter how slow, happens.
As I watched him disappear into the aisles, I could have wept — not out of sadness, but out of the overwhelming joy of witnessing something I once thought impossible.
To every parent of a child who grows at their own pace: hold on. Celebrate the quiet victories, the subtle changes, the moments nobody else sees. Because one day, those moments will become the milestones you’ll remember forever.
Every step forward — no matter how small — counts. ❤️