Be honest. When someone talks about people with Down syndrome, the majority of minds will conjure the image of a grocery store bagger. Ok? Ok. I’m just getting that out there in front of us. Frankly, growing up I rarely if ever saw a person with Down syndrome outside that context, or if I did, I don’t remember (and certainly not at school, not in the 70s and 80s before IDEA and mainstreaming and all that good stuff).

When Davey was born, the only person with T21 who Dex and I encountered in daily life was a middle-aged man in our small town whom we saw… yes, bagging at the grocery store. But - BUT we also saw him a time or two enjoying an afternoon of fishing at a local pond. We chatted with him briefly and moved on to leave him and his fishing buddy in peace. And so not long after, when we were reeling and trying to absorb the shock of Davey’s diagnosis, this man was the only person we could think of to give face to the idea of Down syndrome. Ok, we thought. He seems to have a good life. A job, a friend to fish with, a bicycle to get around on. Ok. It will be ok.

Some time after that the guy stopped working at that grocery store. For a long time, I didn’t see him around at all.

Then a while ago, I started seeing him again. He’s always headed somewhere when I pass him as I cruise up Main Street on my way to school or day care or the bank. I always want to roll down the window, lean out and wave. “Hey! Way to go!” Like he needs my support or my praise. That’s what always strikes me - that in that moment of wanting to call out I am acutely aware, every time, of how irrelevant it would be. He seems so sure within himself. He’s just a guy walking down the sidewalk, on his way somewhere. He’s just doing his thing.

Last week, at the grocery store, I saw a different man with Down syndrome. I passed him a couple of times. I stole quick glances at him, scoping him out. I really love running into people with Down syndrome. I wish it happened more often. I am always struck a little shy, wanting to reach out but not feeling as if I should. This man, well unless I rammed my cart full of groceries into his cart full of groceries, I wasn’t going to get his attention. He seemed as determined to get his stuff and go as I was.

It was great to see a person with Down syndrome on the other side of the checkout counter. Though don’t get me wrong - I do not look down on bagging groceries for a paycheck for anyone of any chromosomal makeup. It was just great to see this man going about the normal, mundane tasks of life. Just like the rest of us.