I have always prayed for a glimpse inside my nonspeaking son’s world
Simple things…
Why does he love trains so much?
What’s his favorite color?
Why will he eat apple sauce out of a cup but not a pouch?
But big things too…
Is he happy?
What does he want to be when he grows up?
What is he afraid of?
Does he dream?
Does he know how loved he is?
For years, I had no idea. I was walking blind as a mother.
Today, my sweet boy is 14 years old. He’s almost as tall as me. And I love to wear his shoes because they are way cooler than mine.
He loves holding my hand. Unless he’s in a hurry. Then I don’t move quite fast enough.
He said his first word at age 8.
‘MMM-AW-MMM.’ (Mom) Three long drawn-out sounds. Like he was plucking each one out of a cloud above his head.
I was told when he was four that he would most likely never talk. That I should prepare for a life without words.
And I did. I poured my energy into sign language, spelling, typing, pointing, gestures, and a speech device.
Anything that would help him communicate.
Today he has 25 or so words. He is never quiet. Unless we are in the car. Those are the moments where the silence is deafening.
But everywhere else he is noisy.
A gasp at a bug.
An animated wave as dad pulls into the driveway.
A song on an iPad.
A dramatic point as he tattles on his siblings.
His hands are always dancing.
He twirls as he walks.
In my heart I am confident of his happiness. he shows me daily.
On pieces of paper that he carries with him throughout the day. And on our calendar too. It used to be filled with hockey games and baseball practices. Meetings, conferences, and travel.
Now it is Coopers.
It’s a glimpse inside of his world.
His dreams. His plans. His hopes. Our goals.
He wants to go on a train ride with mom.
He want to visit the Blue Mountain Quarry and see his favorite animated train, Renais.
He wants to take the Amtrak to Chicago and then to Michigan to visit a model train store.
He wants to visit the fire station with his best friends.
He has big plans. And he shares them with me by showing me clips and glimpses into his world.
All those years ago, I prayed for words. I thought that would be the only way I would get a glimpse.
Now I am thankful he can show me.
Thank you for being here!
Kate
In just five short days, Autism Out Loud will be here. I would love to invite you to come see me in Enola, Pennsylvania. This is a super special event for me, and I would be so honored if you joined me.
Let’s zoom tomorrow at 6 pm central. The zoom link is at the bottom of the page.
If tomorrow marks your first time zooming with me and the group, be assured that this a come as you are experience. I’ll be leading from a cozy space wearing my soft pants, a cup of coffee in hand, and a “do not disturb” sign on the door. Although, the kids will most likely not acknowledge it. I offer a weekly zoom to my paid subscribers. come join us.
I invite you to do the same! We are worthy!💐
Zoom Information Below:
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Finding Cooper's Voice by Kate Swenson to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.