Heart Ach

When Timothy was a baby, he did not speak.  For that matter, he hardly cried.  He mostly peered solemnly at the world from under  a thatch of black hair with  almond-shaped eyes.  When he was 2, he said very few words.  They were that, mom,  dad and damn dog (but mostly just dog, to my relief.).  I worried that he did not speak, but the pediatrician assured me Timothy was totally normal, his hearing was fine and maybe he just didn’t have anything to say.  It never occurred to me to wonder why Timothy didn’t ask WHY.

That was mostly what we heard.  It was a question; (what is) that?  (can I have) that?  It was a statement;  What would you like?  That.  It was an exclamation; (look at) that!  If you had to choose one word, I guess that is a good one.

About the age of 2 and a half, shortly before Sarah was born, Timothy began to read out loud.  I say “began to read out loud” because thinking back, I suspect he had been reading for a few months before he worked up the courage to actually speak the words.   It happened all at once, reading and speaking.   I remember the day very clearly.  It was December, shortly before Christmas and Timothy and I were on our way to Allentown to do some shopping.   At the store, perched in the red plastic cart seat, Timothy pointed and announced “EXIT” very matter-of-factly each time we passed a red EXIT sign.   I thought he was remembering the word from Sesame Street’s exit, exit, exit clip.  On the way home, a little voice said “Till-gah-man”.   He read the street sign.  Phonetically.  I said something like “Yes!  But it’s pronounced til-man“

It was like the floodgates had opened.  Timothy started to talk in full sentences and read every thing he saw.   The only glitch was pronunciation.  Instead of hearing the words, he sees them and says them like they “sound”

When Timothy was about 3, we all got the flu.  He tried to tell us he was sick too.  He said “Mom, I have a stomach”.  Only what came out was “Mom, I have a stom ach” (“ach” rhymes with “hatch”).  We corrected him, asking do you have a stomach ache?  “Yes,” he replied, “a stom ach ACH”.

He still does this.  He was relaying a factoid to me the other day about a pop star who was caught lip  cinching.  I knew what he was trying to say…lip syncing. He still slips and says he has an ach and not ache. 

I don’t think quite so… well… literally.  If I read a word I have never heard pronounced I might pronounce it wrong, but if I hear it, it sticks.  Timothy is consistent.  No matter how many times he hears it or  we tell him it’s not ach, not cinch, he says it.

My neighbor once asked me if I wondered what Timothy’s though process looked like.   I have never read “Thinking in Pictures” (by Temple Grandin), but I suppose that must be what it’s like.    Every word  on a flash card in his mind, flashing like exit, exit, exit,  to be said exactly as it is spelled.

I know he is a very smart young man, but I fear his pronunciation will color other people’s perception.  Timothy is growing to be as tall as Gene… at almost 13 he can look me straight in the eye and wears the same size shoe as Aldo.   I look at my boy, the baby who was, and it makes my heart ach.

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