March 26, 2015

From Frayed Flowers: Dear Mama of a Nonverbal Child

This is absolutely beautiful story from a friend and fellow blogger.  Her blog is called Frayed Flowers.  She is such an eloquent writer and in this piece she conveys how I feel on a regular basis.

I just wanted to sit beside you, green-sleeved lattes in hand, and talk. I know talking to me is no substitute for the conversation you long to have; I know you've gone years upon years waiting for a voice. I know you'd gladly give up coffee for the rest of your life—or books, or music, or whatever gets you through the day—if it meant you could hear his little voice. Her little voice.

I know the twisted, breathless feeling you feel, deep inside, when someone casually asks, "You sure you want him to talk? I can't get mine to shut up!" Clenched fists hidden in the pockets of a fleece jacket. And—as if taking a cue from your baby—you say nothing.

Like you, I've hesitated in checkout lines when well-meaning cashiers kindly question my son: "And how old are you, young man?" Like you, I smile—as if waiting, too—before replying for him.

Click here to read the rest of this story directly on Frayed Flowers.


  1. Oy, just reading that first part i'm almost in tears.

    1. She's a pretty amazing writer! I love reading her stuff on!


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