“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou
Moe will not remember the long hours at home, therapists coming and going, day in and day out.
Moe will not remember the doctor’s appointments and assessments, the endless forms I’ve filled out, therapies I’ve researched, checks I’ve written.
Moe will not remember the early times we had together, playing with other babies at the park, unaware of what was to come.
Moe will not remember the tears I cried as those same babies spoke their first words, then sentences.
Moe does not understand the words “I love you,” or “I’m proud of you.” (Though I hope he will someday.)
Moe does not understand what I mean by “hope” or “can.”
Moe does not know his school is work. He doesn’t know what a milestone is.
Soon, he’s going to start to realize he is different. Soon, he’ll know he has to work harder than the other kids. He’ll learn the label.
For now, Moe is unaware that he is not exactly as he should be. When he is grown, he should only remember the joy of jumping on a bed, the peace of a backyard swing, the security of a stuffed monkey, the love of his mommy.