There was a time that this child of mine did not speak. Not even two years ago, I wondered if words would ever be his.

I knew his thoughts, but speech is a powerful thing.

Not necessary for love, but does absence make the heart grow fonder?

I’m not sure.

I have always felt a fierceness when it comes to this small boy of mine and at five years old, he has found his voice.

Not in the truest sense, but he’s learning that words have a place in the world, his world, and their use connects the two.

The struggle is real and though he still echoes, he’s ascending a mountain that most of us have never seen, much less tackled.

I watch him and marvel at his fortitude and our family, we take what we get, what we never expected, and we grasp those thoughts that Amos articulates in a meaningful way.

Tonight, after my being gone for two days, he insisted on mommy’s bed and I lay with him as he fell asleep.

He wiggled and squirmed close beside me and took my face between his small, not so chubby anymore, hands and said, “Mommy here.”

Oh, yes, my beautiful darling, you are my here.