May 25, 2025
The Words I Still Wait For
I used to spend a lot of time thinking about words.
His words. I wondered if they would ever come. I wondered what his voice would sound like. I wondered what he’d say.
As the years went by, the possibility seemed to slip away. At first just out of reach. But as time went on, the wish for words seemed almost silly.
I told myself we didn’t really need them anyways.
I convinced myself, throwing myself into other forms of communication. But late at night, or at a park or a pool, I’d find myself almost begging for the longing to go away. Hating the sting I felt in my stomach when I heard another child singing a song or telling a never ending story.
At 14 years old, I still don’t know much more than I knew back then. But I don’t dwell either. In fact, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be peppered with questions about trains or paper. Because we’ve adapted. This kid did all the hard work. I mostly just gave him the tools.
But I have my moments. Because I’m no saint. This morning I sat with my boy on the couch, as mothers and sons do, but in silence, the tv at a dull hum in the background. And I asked him if he’s excited for high school. I asked him what he wants to do this summer and if he’s happy.
He looked up at me with his soulful eyes and smiled, no sound coming from his lips. I knew it wouldn’t.
So I answered for him, ‘I’m sure you are excited buddy.’ And that sneaky old feeling of grief creeped into my heart. The one I’ve been feeling for years. Except this time, the little boy sitting with me was much older.
This is us though. A mother searching for her son’s voice and an amazing kid who has overcame. Who has adapted. This is a life without speech. Of course there are sad parts. And hard parts. Even worrisome parts.
But there are beautiful parts too. This kid can communicate with a smile, a sound, a touch to the face. He can tease and love and all without saying a word.
I wish though.
‘I wish you could talk to me buddy. I know you have so much to say.’
I wish and I wish and I wish. I picture all of them, my wishes, floating above, just out of arms reach.
Maybe one day, when he’s older, he will reach up and pluck one down. Grabbing it tightly in his hand and smiling at me.
Who knows which one it will be. Maybe words. Maybe something else. Until then, I’ll keep sending them up.
Keep wishing. Never stop.
Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook.
