Sundae

A few weeks ago, my mom and Olivia were out together, just the two of them. Olivia loves one on one time with any adult she can get. Wait, that’s not true. She loves one on one time with me, Tom or her Gram anytime she can get it.

So while they were out, my mom stopped at McD’s. She asked Olivia if she’d like a cup of ice cream with some chocolate syrup on it.

Olivia stared at my mom for several seconds before asking with perhaps a little too much attitude, “Gram? Do you mean a chocolate sundae?”

See, there are so many things I don’t think we give Olivia credit for. She gets so much more than anyone realizes.

But she can’t always articulate everything that is happening in her head. Sometimes she’ll start to say something to me and then, halfway through will shake her head and say, “Never mind.”

Whenever she does that I try so hard to get her to try again but she’s to the point where she knows if she can get her thoughts out or not and often will just not even try if she knows she can’t say it exactly the way she wants to say it.

It makes me sad that she can’t share all her thoughts and ideas.

But then I remind myself of how lucky we are that Olivia talks to us at all, let alone talks as well as she does. Most kids with 5p- (Cri du Chat) aren’t verbal, they can’t talk to their parents and siblings and peers. We’re so incredibly lucky that Olivia does what she does, says what she says.

But…like all humans, I want more. I want more for her. I want her to be able to say what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. I want to know where it hurts.

Those moments, though, where she surprises us with what she knows and her awareness of those around her who might, just might, be simplifying things a bit too much for her liking? Those are some of my favorites. I hope she continues to surprise us, to prove all the research and doctors wrong and shows the world what I see, an amazing, beautiful person who has so very much to offer.