Every Word is a PearlYou try not to hope for too much, but you never stop hoping...
You temper your expectations, but you work so hard to bring the language.
Your favorite stories are the ones where other parents with autistic children say, "Oh, my Johnny didn't talk until he was 7, and listen to him now!!"
You look around at your fellow parents with autistic kids and envy the ones whose children are communicating and pity those with nonverbal children...
My son is using some phrases, but it's mostly words...let me tell you how they thrill!
We were riding down the road the other day, and Tommy said "Hangooger!!"
For the first time ever, he said, "Hamburger!" to indicate that's what he wanted! Excited as can be, I drove STRAIGHT to MacDonalds...always, to show him, the power of his words.
I found an amazing book of poetry recently that had the poem that we all dream about. The poet is an Atlanta native, Elizabeth Newman. I had never read poems that described my feelings and Tommy's state of being so perfectly. The poem about language coming made me cry and strengthened my state of hope and longing. Here it is:
Can This Be True? by Elizabeth Newman
Can this be true?
It is almost too much to believe,these seemingly sudden turns.
She has changed her pattern of being so unexpectedly
that I have yet to change my own habit of mind.
She speaks to us in sentences, words of pure music, sounding strong and clear
like the bugle of a rescuing cavalry liberating our giddy ears!
She's moved from repetitive nouns and verbs to prounouns! prepositions!
articles and adjectives! which pepper her melodic phrases
with a scent we inhale like air itself!
She asks for hugs and kisses and gives them often with smiles and giggles
and baby arms wrapped tightly around our overwhelmed shoulders.
She laughs uproariously when we ham it up
and finds her own antics just as entertaining!
Well past seconds, now she spends long sweet minutes, even hours
engrossed in interactive games with eager playmates
She even Imagines monsters growling, owls, calling, and toys greeting her.
Such normal, everyday stunts for any young child.
But for our child these things are MOUNTAINS of accomplishment.
They are hard-earned trophies she presses into our hands,
inflating our hopes, filling our hearts, enlarging our lives!
Can this be true?
For ours is a child who once proteced her delicate senses
by covering her ears from unknown sounds
humming to block out requests
sliding out of chairs to avoid looking at a puzzle
Walking in circles to create a meditative dance
climbing high to feel balanced and weighted
throwing, pulling, biting to fill sensory needs
and shunning interactive play
to avoid sensory overload
The SAME child now clamors for attention,
delights in the sounds and sights that surround her
mimics our words and intonations,
invites us to hold her lovingly,
to be with her in imaginative, playful ways!
The fog has lifted from her world!
Yet my head is still full of clouded memories,
silver-lined, to be sure
for she has chosen to come to us, as we chose to go to her.
And her coming, is an event of such magnitude
that I imagine I will spend years ahead
absorbing and drinking in
the fragile wonder of it all.
Thank you Elizabeth Newman, for helping me explain how every word is a pearl.
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