The Questions I Would Ask You

Sometimes, I let myself dream about you talking Cooper.

I’ll be honest, it’s less and less lately.

And not for sad reasons. Don’t think that for a second.

But because you are communicating so well with your speech device. That’s our focus.

As long as you can tell us if you are thirsty, or hungry, or if something hurts, then I am good.

I care about your needs sweet boy. I need those met. I need to know that you lack for nothing.

And I need you happy. Above all. Healthy and happy.

And lately, you are both.

We seem to have passed the endless years of ear infections and constipation.

We have a handle on your anxiety. You are sleeping. You love school.

You laugh more than you cry. You rarely self injure anymore.

You are thriving my sweet boy.

So to be honest Cooper, for many years, speech wasn’t a priority. Getting you here was.

But lately, speech seems possible.

You have started babbling. Mimicking. I am hearing sounds that I only dreamed of.

So, I am letting myself go there.

To a world where you talk to me.

So far I’ve only been there in my dreams. Maybe 5 times or so.

I let myself imagine what it will be like.

The day you start talking to me.

I think it will happen all at once. Instead of one word, I imagine the words coming out like a flood.

Full sentences.

I picture us together. Doing nothing special. Maybe swinging. Or jumping on the trampoline.

And I imagine you looking at me and saying, ‘hi mom.’

Just like that.

So casually. Out of the blue.

And then saying a full sentence.

I imagine myself being stunned. Screaming. Hugging you. Shouting it from the rooftops.

That’s how it will happen Cooper. I know it. You are amazing like that.

I’m pretty sure we will laugh. Because we always laugh. You will probably wonder why I worried so much.

Kid, I have so many questions.

More than I could fit into a day. Or maybe even a week.

If you choose to start talking Cooper, I want you to talk forever. I want you to drive me crazy. And never stop. Not even for a second.

I want to know why you love trains so much.

I want to know if you are happy.

If you are lonely. If you wish you had friends.

I want to know if I could do anything better.

I want to know why you strip beds. And put things in the bathtub. And turn all the lights on. And off.

I want to know why you hate apples so much.

And why you gasp when you see tractors.

I want to ask you question after question.

But please know this my son. If you choose not to talk. If the words never come…it’s just fine. Mommy won’t be mad. Or sad. Because you alone are enough.

You are my everything.

I know that for sure.

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