You don't always know when the last conversation you have with someone will be. Hell, it's likely you don't even remember when the first conversation was.
But Dec 8 transformed for me yesterday, from being the day that John Lennon died - to the day I had my first conversation.
With a five year old boy, who is autistic.
In my bleary eyed o'dark hundred rush to get the non-sick twin out the door to school, I was parked on the coffee table slippin on shoes and socks and singing along to Sesame Street when a little voice, as clear as a bell asked,"Where Charlie?"
He reached out his foot to remind me what I was at, and I continue as I answered him."Charlie is sick. No school today for Charlie. He had to stay home."
He sat there for a moment and then said,"School Today. Go to school today."
I realized he was watching me very pointedly so I said,"No, Charlie has to stay home.No school today. Will you tell Miss Jenna Charlie is sick?"
He smiled and said "Charlie sick."
I'd stop there and be amazed and all teary eyed at this breakthrough - except it doesn't stop there. I emailed his teacher when I got to work, because I was SO excited about this and she emailed me back later.
While they were naming who was at school that day, she asked Miles "Where is Charlie?"
And at first he stared at her confused, but then piped up and said "No school today. School tomorrow."
He gets it. Suddenly, something inside him is getting it.
December 8. The first day I ever had a conversation with my son.
I can't wait to find out what else he has to say.