
EXCERPT: The First Five Years Last Forever
Between daily hospital visits with Mom, I tried to spend as much time as I could with my little granddaughter who was learning and growing at a miraculous rate. She was exploring her environment, discovering new words, taking first steps, and learning to feed herself. She was a miracle unfolding like a perfect rosebud! Avenue would awkwardly clutch her spoon in her tiny little hand, making a fist around her baby utensil so she could feed herself. She would point to pictures in her word book. “What’s that?” I would ask. Proudly she would reply, “Cat…doggy…ball.” Her vocabulary was growing exponentially. She used the wall and the coffee table to support herself as she proudly navigated through the house, taking her first steps. Meanwhile, Mom was content to sit and stare at her food. I tried to feed her but the nurse advised me not to. “Make her feed herself,” she said, “even if you have to hold her hand and guide it to her mouth. She needs to re-learn.” It worked. In a few days, Mom clutched her utensil with an awkward fist and brought it to her mouth.
I showed her pictures of family members and pointed to objects in her room. I said, “Who’s that?” while pointing to a picture of her beloved father. “That’s a sandwich,” she said pointing to the photo of her dad. I pointed to the clock on the wall, “What’s that?” I asked. “That’s an antibiotic,” she replied. It was surreal to hear these responses. Language was there but the neural pathways were scrambled. As I pushed her down the hall in her wheelchair she would read signs: “Exit…Laundry… Elevator.” I was encouraged because she could still read. It would be several weeks before she would re-learn to walk, but she was progressing in other areas. It occurred to me that she was just like Avenue. She was one again!