The Rain

"I fink it's gohwing da wain," he comments, looking at the sky.

In a split second, the outside world, the sounds of birds tweeting, the passing vehicles on our busy street, the dinner conversations at our picnic table completely halt.  The world fades away into a cloudy haze.  I see only my boy, his head tilted back, chin up to the sky, examining the clouds.

I feel my heart in my throat as my brain works to catch up with what my ears have already processed.  I'm breathless, completely taken aback by the immensity of such a comment.  My eyes find my husband, his expression mirrors my own.

Disbelief.  Shock.  Hope.  Love.

Then, as quickly as the moment comes, it goes as Jonas continues his apparent scripting of some episode or other of Yo Gabba Gabba, no doubt.

But that moment...oh that moment.  It fills me up with so much hope, so much love.  Perhaps it was a coincidence that the sky began turning at the exact moment that Jonas was beginning his script.  Perhaps it was the changing sky, as dusk began its approach, that triggered the connection.  Perhaps it was something else.  In any case, that comment could not have been more perfect, more accurate, more communicative, more demonstrative and telling of the amazing progress my boy has made since he uttered his first words at 3 years of age.   

Now, more than a year later I find that he has travelled, that we have travelled, light years and eons past where we began when we first stepped foot into this world of autism.  It is moments like this that reassure me that we are on the right path and that my baby will find his voice as we walk on this path together toward full self-expression.

The rain washes over me, bathing me in hope.

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Aimee is an educator, wife, and the mother of 3 incredible children.  Sole (12) is a talkative, caring, budding adolescent and advocate.  Micah (8) is a sensitive, quirky naturalist.  Jonas (4) is the beautiful cherub: snuggly, funny, and wonderfully intelligent.  Jonas also has autism.   When Aimee is not writing here, she can be found at her blog Red Shoes, Autism Blues, where she documents her family's roller coaster journey with autism.