No, he's not lost

"Hello, you look lost!"

Max had walked away from our table at the outdoor dining space we were at and was standing on the nearby sidewalk. He was just chilling, taking in the comings and goings, when a man who'd been sitting seated at another table approached him.

I could understand why he might think Max was lost. Usually, people don't just stand there on a sidewalk. And Max does have a habit of staring into space when he's processing thoughts. To people who don't know him it might look like he is uncertain, bewildered or disoriented.

It's become very clear to us lately how fine Max is with just standing around. He's been going on walks once in a while to a local fire station where he'll stand on the opposite side of the street on the corner. He's hoping to see some fire engine action, but he also just likes hanging out there. I've driven over to get him a few times and I am always struck by the sight of him standing there, alone. 

While teens often group together on a corner or in a park or wherever in public, that's not Max's life. He is perfectly content with being on that corner by himself. He doesn't even want me or Dave coming along on walks. I don't know if anyone has ever approached him as he's stood there and asked if he's OK; Max hasn't mentioned it.

The day when the man at the restaurant checked in on Max, not knowing that he was with us, felt good. We live in a community full of people who care about the well-being of others. At the same time, it made me once again aware that people who do not look and behave like others stand out in our society. Over the years, I have watched strangers watching Max and it's always unnerved me. 

Max, as usual, was unfazed.

"No," said Max when the guy asked if he was lost.

"He's with us!" I piped up. "He's fine."

The guy smiled and headed back to his seat. 

And Max continued to stand there, just being Max.