A B C D E

A B C D E

I have stated many times that I miss Waverly's voice. She used to love to sing and had memorized the lines to her favorite books. I love the song "Miracle Drug" by U2. One of the parts that speaks so deeply to me is, "I want to trip inside your head and spend the day there. To hear the things you haven't said and see what you might see. I want to see your thoughts take shape and walk right out. The songs are in your eyes. I see them when you smile." I am so thankful we video taped her, although it wasn't enough.

***Take note fellow Sanfilippo families with younger children. Video tape them more often!!!***

Well this afternoon, on the plane to MN, Waverly surprised us by singing. It has been many long months since she has said anything. And then all of a sudden, clear as day, we heard, "A B C D E". My head snapped around and I asked Matt if I actually heard what I thought I heard. We both had tears in our eyes. What a precious gift. Deep within her mysterious little brain, she pulled out 5 little letters. 5 notes in a simple song. It was amazing. And as quickly as it came, it went. We have been singing it to her non-stop. I am not sure if she will ever do it again, but I was so thankful for the reminder that she is still there. I always knew she was, but it was nice for the little gift of her big voice.

Comments

Carrie said…

A very precious gift. 5 years ago, I had a student with autism who spoke only 1 or 2x a year. It would be a simple "Hi" or once it was "leave me alone". But no matter what he said it was always treasured. His Mom said that he stopped saying words at age 2 and has continued that pattern ever since then- he was 8 at the time.

March 15, 2011 at 9:05 AM

camille said…

What an amazing gift!! LOVE LOVE LOVVVE THIS!

March 15, 2011 at 8:47 PM

Anonymous said…

With tears in my eyes all I can say is beautiful post.
Jen L

March 18, 2011 at 6:41 AM

Welcome to Holland

By Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland.""Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.