It’s finally happening. After waiting for over a year, Alex finally has an appointment at the speech clinic. I’ve waited so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it is I’ve been waiting for; but, now that it’s really happening, all that hope comes back to me. Alex…fitted with a communication device. Alex…able to tell us what’s on his mind. Alex…obtaining the power of words. Now that it’s so close, all of these hopes sound too good to be true.
I know it won’t be as easy as matching him up with a device and seeing magic happen before our very eyes. He’ll need to learn to use it. We’ll need to learn to use it. We’ll need to work together to make it work. But, still…part of me expects that this will be some sort of magic key that unlocks the inner workings of my child and reveals all that he’s been waiting so long and trying so hard to tell us.
I want to believe in magic. Part of me, the childlike part of myself that I’ve never lost, really does. I certainly believe in miracles. But it seems like too much to expect either. Between hope and anxiety, I wait for the upcoming appointment with tingling underneath the skin and tears right behind my eyes. I know there are words inside that boy!
Will this be the way we can at last get them out?