This book is written in a descriptively beautiful language, and even though it's Bonaventure's story, I kept being reminded of my Emmett, who is definitely not silent, but has a speech delay. I'd like to share a particular paragraph that I absolutely loved:
Dancy Arrow had been traveling the road of her son's missing speech for quite a while, and her feelings on the matter ran in circles. Her main concern was for his safety, since without a voice he couldn't call for help. And it was a source of sadness to her that Bonaventure would never be able to sing. She also felt sorry for herself because of all theat she missed out on: no baby cooing, no cries of delight, no laugther, no questioning why, and no hearing him call her mama. She felt selfish for those feelings, and ashamed, and so forced herself to call to mind all that she did receive from Bonaventure's silence: the need to look into each other's eyes, his busy little hands, the language of his face.My Emmett is definitely vocal; he babbled nonstop as a baby, shrieks with joy, and has the best, most contagious giggle-laugh. He also has a speech delay, which began as mild and has grown to moderate. This means communication is very hands-on and in-your-face: lots of pointing, gestures, repetition, facial expression, and eye contact. It definitely has its challenges, but more often than not I am amazed and how much Em can communicate with less than 50 words.
When he was just over 2 years old I bought him a water table that came with rubber ducks and frogs... the usual bathtub toys. He "helped" me build it and we set it up outside for him to play. Earlier that month we had bought 2 little frogs for his fish tank, and with his extremely limited language and dragging me back and forth and holding up the toy frog next to his eyes he let me know that the plastic frogs were the same animal as the living frogs in the fish tank even though they look nothing alike. And I was so pleased and proud that he went to great lengths to show me the meaning of the word "same". Over time he has developed his own sign for the word same: two index fingers next to each other pointing up.
The biggest reason I love The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is that it made me see Emmett's speech delay not as a detriment, but as a gift. I have come to find such joy in his piercing eye contact, with beautiful brown eyes that have a smile all of their own. I love his need for constant motion and the way he explores the world with his whole body. I am secretly proud of his cautious nature; the way he observes and learns and processes nonstop. I love being able to speak complex sentences and see complete understanding in his face, and a determination to be independent. I love his busy little hands using tools and performing tasks which require fine motor skills well above his age. I beam with pride when yet another speech therapist compliments his attention span and desire to learn. I love to see him move at full speed; arms outstretched and little legs pounding the pavement and a shriek of laughter exploding from his lips.
I love my baby boy, and even though his speech delay causes hold-ups here and there, I wouldn’t change him for the world.
