They also spent a lot of time down by the bay. The girls watched Brian in the shade, while Mama taught Ross how to swim. It didn’t take long for the daredevil to paddle off in the shallow water—all by himself.
While the girls joined Ross in the surf, Mama grabbed Brian, painted him white with sun block and then marched him into the water until she was up to her waist. For the longest time, she just stood there holding him in the water, while he flopped and flailed around.
Standing in the surf, Steph nervously asked, “What are you doing, Mama?”
“Taking away Brian’s fear. Once the water starts to feel natural to him, then the swimming will come natural to him. Right now, we’re just removing the fear.” She looked down at him. “Right, buddy?” she asked.
Brian contorted and thrashed, struggling violently against the water.
It was the last week of August when the kids—Heidi, Steph and Ross—presented Mama with a priceless gift. “Come out to the yard,” Heidi, the group’s elected representative, told her. “We have something we want to show you.”
Expecting to sit through another one of their backyard plays, Mama stepped out into the yard to find Steph and Ross kneeling before Brian on the blanket. The baby was propped up on his bum, with a rolled towel wedged behind him, allowing him to stay seated. But there are no costumes or props, Mama thought. As she and Heidi took a seat on the blanket beside them, the old lady looked at the kids and shrugged. “What’s up, guys?”
Ross began giggling and couldn’t stop. Heidi grabbed him by the shoulders, “Shhhh, Ross. Let Steph show her.”
Intrigued, Mama looked toward Steph. “Show me what?”
Steph never answered. Instead, wearing a giant smile, she turned toward Brian and clapped twice. Nothing happened. She clapped twice more. “Come on, Brian,” she whispered, obviously pleading for him to comply.
The little guy looked directly at Mama, brought up both of his hands and quickly clapped them together.
Mama’s mouth dropped open, but before she could get a word out, Steph clapped at the baby again. Brian responded with another clap. This time, he added a laugh.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Mama gasped, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. This was no small feat. Brian’s learning to mimic, she thought. “He’s learning!” she said aloud.
The kids looked up at their grandmother for her approval.
“It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received!” she cried out and meant it. While Brian applauded, she hugged each one of them.
After a half hour of clapping with Brian and round after round of tearful kisses, Mama stood and stretched out her creaky back. “We need to call Aunt Joan and Uncle Frank.” She shot them a wink. “And after that, I’m treating you guys to McRay’s for supper. Whatever you want to eat, it’s yours!”
“Anything?” Heidi asked.
“Anything,” she said, smiling. “You’ve earned it.”
Once Brian returned home, the other three kids ate enough sugar to launch any one of them into a diabetic coma. It was a glorious—and somewhat discreet—celebration.
As the leaves turned from green to bright red and orange, a yellow school bus sadly carried the squeals of summer down the road. Life went back to normal and the family returned to Mama’s cottage every Wednesday and Saturday night. Inspired by Brian’s recent progress, the kids kept their promise and spent hours working with him on developing his speech.
“Say Ma, Brian,” Heidi told him.
“Say Ma,” Steph repeated.
“Say Ma. Ma. Ma. Ma…” Ross added.
It was mind numbing to listen to, but the relentless repetition was exactly what he needed. Occasionally, Frank would chime in, “No, say dah dah,” but he didn’t have a shot in hell with the overwhelming push for the boy to say “Ma.”
Before long, Frank began to miss some of the weekly get-togethers. As time went on, his absences became more frequent and Joan’s excuses became less believable. No one ever commented on it—not even Mama.
The weeks turned into months and countless hours were spent trying to teach Brian to utter a word; hours upon hours spent failing again and again.
“Say Ma, Brian,” Heidi told him.
“Say Ma,” Steph repeated.
“Say Ma. Ma. Ma. Ma…” Ross added.
Brian refused to speak. Still, not one of the kids gave up. Each one of them refused to stay knocked down.
It was a Sunday afternoon in early November, a few short months before Brian’s third birthday. Frank was out in the backyard, taking a break from raking the few remaining leaves on the ground to teach Ross how to swing a golf club. Joan was in the kitchen, cleaning up from the pumpkin carving when Brian looked up from his oversized high chair and said, “Ma.”
Joan spun on her heels to face the baby. “Did you say Ma, Brian?” she gasped, hoping against all hope that she hadn’t been hearing things.
He banged a spoon on his tray, but didn’t repeat it.
With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly dismissed it as nothing and turned her back on the little guy to finish the cleaning.
He didn’t like it. He threw his spoon and yelled, “Ma!”
She dropped the sponge onto the floor and hurried to him. “You did call for Mommy!” she said. “You’re learning to talk,” she squealed in joy. “Can you say it again?” she asked. “Can you say…”
“Ma,” he said, and grinned at her like he’d merely been teasing everyone for all these months.
“Oh, God,” she cried. “You’re talking.” She smothered him in kisses.
He laughed. “Ma…Ma…”
After composing herself, she called Frank and Ross in from the yard. By then, Brian was on a roll. “Ma…Ma…Ma…Ma…”
Frank stepped into the kitchen, heard Brian speak and hurried over to him. He lifted his son out of the high chair and spun him in circles. “Daddy’s so proud of you,” he whimpered. “So proud…”
“Ma…Ma…” Brian answered.
Ross was so excited that he couldn’t speak. He simply nodded, while his eyes filled with tears. Joan kneeled down and hugged him. “Thank you for helping your brother,” she told him. “He could have never done this without you.”
Ross nodded again, proud tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Ma…Ma…” Brian said.
While Frank danced Brian around the kitchen, Joan grabbed the telephone and dialed her mother’s house. “Ma, you need to get over here right away.” She paused. “No, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just that…well...Brian has something he wants to say to you.”
Mama was at the house in record time. She hurried through the door and threw her tattered jacket onto the couch. “Where is he?” she panted.
With a grin, Frank pointed toward Brian’s bedroom.
As she entered the room, she spotted Joan and Ross changing Brian on the bed. Mama bent over and gave Ross a kiss. “What’s the…”
“Ma…Ma…Ma…Ma…” Brian said, answering for his mother.
Instantly, Mama began crying and just stood there—shaking her head for the longest time. She grabbed for the crucifix around her necklace and kissed it. “Stupid doctors,” she finally said, sobbing, “what do they know?” She picked up Brian to give him a squeeze and a nibble. Ross hugged her. Joan hugged her. And then she began crying and laughing—all at the same time. “All that money for a speech therapist and he’s learned the same way as any other kid…just by hearing it over and over again.” She ruffled Ross’ hair. “You did this, you know. You taught your baby brother how to speak.”
Ross nodded, proudly.
“And I need to tell your cousins the same,” she added.
“Ma…Ma…Ma…” Brian agreed.
Frank stepped into the threshold and smiled. Mama handed Brian to Joan, marched over to her son-in-law, stood up on her toes an
d gave him a long, hard hug. Joan froze, unsure of how her husband would receive the unexpected display of affection. He surprised everyone and hugged her back just as hard. It was a moment that transcended all barriers and hard feelings.
In the background, Brian sang, “Ma…Ma…Ma…”
Mama pulled away and wiped her eyes. “We just need him to string them together a little quicker and he’ll have my name down, too.”
“Then can we work on Dada?” Frank asked, playfully.
She nodded. “I guarantee it.”
“Oh, I believe you,” he said. “And I’ll never doubt you again.”
“And from what I can tell, he’ll be crawling by the first snowfall,” she said with a wink.
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