Words

This past Tuesday, my son’s nurse, Nelda, and I were on our way with Ryan, my 4 year old son to see his therapists. As we were driving on Huebner Road talking to each other, I heard a very clear “Mom” from the back of our silver minivan. It sounded like the voice of a typical 4 year old.

I swerved a bit as I whipped my head around in astonishment, my eyes catching Nelda’s eyes. The look on her face reassured me that she had also heard the same clear “Mom” and it wasn’t my imagination. It might not surprise some women to hear “Mom” while driving their minivans, and had I had any of my other five children in my car, it wouldn’t have surprised me either. However, Ryan isn’t a typical 4 year old. He has never called me “Mom” before Tuesday.

He is classified on insurance papers as “non-verbal.” Of course, anyone who has attended Sacrament meeting with Ryan would disagree with that statement! He has a beautiful dove call that he makes when he’s happy, a dolphin clicking noise that we haven’t decoded yet, a purring sound that he makes when he’s content, and he can roll his tongue with the best of the Spanish speakers in all of Texas. And, now, he can say, “Mom!”