“Dear ‘daddy’ seat 16c” is the letter written by the mom of autistic three-year-old Kate. Fully titled “Dear 'Daddy' in Seat 16C Flight 1850 From Philly,” Kate’s mom wrote the letter on her blog post and since its appearance, it has stunned the whole nation and gained worldwide fans. After reading the letter, one can understand why. According to a Jan. 14, 2014, WMBF News report, the “Dear ‘daddy’ seat 16c” blog post has received more than “64,000 likes on Facebook, almost 500 retweets and nearly 400 comments on the website.”
And the numbers under the “Dear 'Daddy' in Seat 16C Flight 1850 From Philly” letter are growing daily as more and more people are touched by the most heart-felt story.
According to her mom’s The Diagnosis webpage, Kate Mouland was born “eleven days late in May of 2010.” Like her older sister Grace, Kate was colicky and didn’t sleep through the night until she was about one year old, so there was no real reason for Kate’s parents to think that anything was different. Except – as her mom writes – “But, if I am being honest, then I have to admit that I was struggling to connect with Kate when she was an infant. As a mom, that is so hard to write. Looking back I can see that Kate was struggling to connect with us. Which is the cruelest part of autism.“
Kate’s mom and dad didn’t know that the reason why their daughter didn’t connect with them or why she didn’t respond when they called her name was due to autism until they took a trip to Disney World the March before Kate turned two. "Talk about sensory overload for a little girl with autism!"
“We had purchased her a Princess Jasmine costume. When I tried to put it on her she reacted as if it was like fire on her skin. She had a complete meltdown. At that moment I knew. I was able to bury it deep for a few more weeks, but I knew. I knew a little bit about sensory issues and I knew what this meant for Kate.”
By Jan. 9, 2014, the day that Kate’s mom wrote her “Dear 'Daddy' in Seat 16C Flight 1850 From Philly” letter on her blog post, the autistic girl’s mother was all too familiar with autism and the kind of sensory overload that can spiral an autistic child into mayhem. Kate’s mom was also all too familiar with apologizing for her daughter to strangers.
Below is Kate’s mom’s complete “Dear 'Daddy' in Seat 16C Flight 1850 From Philly” blog post:
I don't know your name but Kate called you 'daddy' for the entire flight last week and you kindly never corrected her. In fact, you didn't even flinch as you could probably tell that she was not confusing you with her own 'daddy' but instead making a judgment regarding your level of 'safety' for her. If she calls you 'daddy' then you better believe she thinks you are alright.
I sat Kate in the middle seat knowing full well that there would be a stranger sitting next to her for the duration of this flight. I had to make a quick decision and based on her obsession with opening and closing the window shade I figured she might be less of a distraction if she sat in the middle. I watched the entire Temple basketball team board the plane and wondered if one of these giants might sit by Kate. They all moved toward the back. She would have liked that, she would have made some observations that I would have had to deal with but she would have liked those players. I watched many Grandmotherly women board and hoped for one to take the seat but they walked on by. For a fleeting moment I thought we might have a free seat beside us and then you walked up and sat down with your briefcase and your important documents and I had a vision of Kate pouring her water all over your multi-million dollar contracts, or house deeds, or whatever it was you held. The moment you sat down, Kate started to rub your arm. Your jacket was soft and she liked the feel of it. You smiled at her and she said: "Hi, Daddy, that's my mom." Then she had you.
You could have shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You could have ignored her. You could have given me that 'smile' that I despise because it means; 'manage your child please.' You did none of that. You engaged Kate in conversation and you asked her questions about her turtles. She could never really answer your questions but she was so enamored by you that she keep eye contact and joint attention on the items you were asking her about. I watched and smiled. I made a few polite offers to distract her, but you would have none of it.
Kate: (Upon noticing you had an IPad) Is dis Daddy's puduter?
You: This is my IPad. Would you like to see it?
Kate: To me?????? (I know she thought you were offering it to her to keep)
Me: Look with your eyes, Kate. That is not yours.
Kate: Dat's nice!
You: (Upon noticing that Kate had an IPad) I like your computer, too. It has a nice purple case.
Kate: Daddy wanna be a bad guy? (She offered shredder to you and that, my friend, is high praise)
The interaction went on and on and you never once seemed annoyed. She gave you some moments of peace while she played with her Anna and Elsa dolls. Kind of her to save you from playing barbies, but I bet you wouldn't have minded a bit. I bet you have little girls, too.
Not long before we landed Kate had reached her limit. She screamed to have her seatbelt off, she screamed for me to open the plane door and she cried repeating, "Plane is cwosed (closed)" over and over. You tried to redirect her attention to her toys. She was already too far gone at this point, but the fact that you tried to help your new little friend made me emotional.
In case, you are wondering. She was fine the moment we stepped off the plane. Thank you for letting us go ahead of you. She was feeling overwhelmed and escaping the plane and a big, long hug was all she needed.
So, thank you. Thank you for not making me repeat those awful apologetic sentences that I so often say in public. Thank you for entertaining Kate so much that she had her most successful plane ride, yet. And, thank you for putting your papers away and playing turtles with our girl.”
Many of the now over 400 comments under the “Dear 'Daddy' in Seat 16C Flight 1850 From Philly” letter reflect the same gratitude that Kate’s mom felt for the “Daddy” and his kindness to her autistic daughter. “I am reading this in New Zealand. As the mum of an autistic 11 year old I sure relate to the plane story. What a fantastic read. ‘Daddy’ what a lovely kind man you were to Kate, wish there were more like you around!!”