The views expressed in guest essays or opinion pieces are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Autism New Jersey.
By: Stacie Sherman | August 15, 2025
I drive with my left hand on the wheel and my right on my daughter in the back seat. My husband scolds me for it. He can pound sand.
Brielle usually just humors me by holding my hand loosely for maybe a minute if I’m lucky. In recent weeks, she’s been holding on longer. Just yesterday, she grabbed my hand and held it so tight I thought there was something wrong. When I glanced back at her, she was smiling and staring back.
Her stares and smiles seem more intense lately. When we were on our walk a few days ago, she wrapped her arms around my husband’s back. They walked side by side. Her eyes were on him the whole time. The look of love, I call it. It’s palpable.
Stacie and her daughter, Brielle.
Brielle’s non-verbal cues also include early-morning wakeups. Over the past month, she’s rarely slept past 5 am for us. Perhaps she wants to help keep me from sleeping in now that I’m out of work. More likely, she senses big change is on the horizon.
Within a month or two, Brielle will be moving out and into a group home. She and three other women with special needs will share a ranch about a half hour away from me, with round-the-clock care. It is the moment I have been hoping for, and dreading.
I made the tough and responsible decision years ago to do everything possible to get Brielle into residential placement while I was still on this earth, so I could be there to oversee the move and the changes that come with it. At 23 years old, Brielle is a bit young, in my opinion, to move out. If I had my way, she’d stay with me a while more. I’d take the sleepless nights and constant care for more precious time with her under my roof. But I must face reality: any day could be my last.
I got the news that her group home was nearly ready days after I left a 28-year career. I’ve had enough trouble adjusting to not working. Once Brielle moves out, I won’t know what to do with myself.
But enough about me. What about Brielle? Will she understand what’s happening to her?
Family members remind me how much she loved three weeks of sleepaway camp. That’s weeks, though, not forever. Will she think she’s at camp and coming back home soon? I don’t have these answers. Nobody knows what Brielle is thinking or feeling behind those beautiful brown eyes.
Talk to her, a few friends suggested. Explain to her what’s going on, so she’s prepared.
I know better than anyone that Brielle understands way more than she expresses. But my gut said she wouldn’t understand what I was telling her. Most of the time, the conversation goes over her head unless it’s direct and concrete. She’s good at sensing the mood, just not understanding the discussion. Nevertheless, on a recent walk around our neighborhood, I explained to her about her new home. I also mentioned her friends that were going to live with her, etc. She looked back at me. Her smile was wide. Her eyes looked nonreactive to my words. They resembled my husband’s when I’m talking to him, and he’s clearly not listening.
This is one of those moments that are just too huge, too much to wrap your arms around. So, I don’t. I can’t. I focus on the daily to-do list; ordering her bedroom furniture, getting the necessary paperwork filled out. I spend my evenings taking her on walks around the neighborhood. I respond to her constant requests for something to eat or drink. I bathe her and brush her hair. I cuddle with her in my bed. I know she won’t get treated like this once she’s in her group home. It’s clear her days here at home with me are numbered. Still, I can’t stop myself from babying her.
My gut aches. I am filled with emotion but trying to hold off on letting it out until the day comes. I know it’s likely going to be harder on me than it is on her. That doesn’t make it any easier.
In the late afternoons, I hurry out the door. I pick my girl up from her day program and bring her back home with me. Once we are in the car, I feed my hungry girl her snacks, her drink, her gum. I put her headache-inducing Wiggles on the radio. I sing to her at the top of my lungs, knowing it will make her giggle and sway to the music.
And yes, I hold her hand.
This article was republished with the author’s permission. Stacie Sherman is mother of a daughter with autism and a son with Aspergers. She’s been a New Jersey journalist for more than 30 years. You can read more of her work on her personal blog Brielle’s Voice.
Autism New Jersey’s Supportive Housing Resources
Finding the right supportive housing for your adult child can be an emotional and daunting task, but Autism New Jersey is here every step of the way. Check out these resources below or call our 800.4.AUTISM Helpline to speak to experts who can answer your questions about group-homes, end-of-life financial planning and wills, adult services and more, free of charge.
- Introduction to Housing – an easy-to-understand introduction to housing for adults with autism, covering topics like funding, supportive housing and resources from the Supportive Housing Association of New Jersey
- Housing Guide: The Journey to Community Housing with Supports – a more in-depth downloadable PDF with guidance about community housing and supportive services and written specifically for individuals with disabilities and their families with a concentration on those with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
- Housing Guide YouTube Video — A 50-minute webinar by the author highlights the guide’s key concepts.