echoes of the past

Let echo, too, perform her part, Prolonging every note with art; And in a low expiring strain, Play all the comfort o’er again.

~ Addison, Ode for St Cecelia’s Day

If you’ve been following along for a while now, you know that Brooke’s early speech was almost purely echolalic. She would repeat words, phrases, even entire books and movie scripts. Sometimes immediately, sometimes hours, days or weeks after hearing them. The echolalia eventually became functional and, though it is still present, it goes largely (OK, somewhat) unnoticed these days.

As I left Brooke’s room last night, I started to close her door, but poked my head in just one last time.

“Mama loves you, baby,” I said softly.

As it does every night, her tiny, sleepy little echo trailed behind.

“Mama loves you too, baby.”

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