Mr. Snail and Other Tales

Mr. Snail and Other Tales is the product of living a philosophy that has always been very important to me. LOVE CONQUERS FEAR. Three small words that are enormously impactful. It's what we do. It's how we live. It's kindness. It's compassion. It's tolerance. It's patience. It's listening. It's teaching. It's learning .... LOVE CONQUERS FEAR reminds us to choose love, to embrace rather than fear our differences, to respect ourselves and our neighbors, and to stay connected to one another. My son, Zach, was born 3 weeks early by emergency c-section. It was nothing earth-shattering and all seemed great. He was pretty cute, pretty huge (33 lbs at a year), loved to snuggle, and made me laugh. I did notice that he was late in crawling and walking (ten months to crawl, fifteen months before he walked). I chalked it up to his size. His pediatrician didn't think too much about it. He started talking at around a year and developed a sizable vocabulary. But seemingly overnight, Zach lost language. One day he knew "clock," "duck," "mommy," colors, etc. The next day, his speech was essentially gone. I was terrified. His comprehension was outstanding. I'd tell him to get a towel, and he'd drag a towel from the laundry basket and hand it to me. But where did all his words go? Twenty-two years later, I still find it hard to express the panic, fear, confusion, and helplessness I felt. We took him to an audiologist, several pediatric neurologists, and other "ologists" that I can't remember. He had some markers for autism. (He liked to line up his matchbox cars hood to trunk, instead of door to door. I was told that's a marker.) He also tested highly on the several IQ tests he was given. So what was going on? Why wasn't my baby like the other babies? I was frozen with fear. Fearful of what his future will be. Fearful of him being teased. Fearful of limits being put on him by teachers, his peers, my friends, and society as a whole. Fearful of being judged by other moms. I cried all the time. How did this happen? Did I do this to him? Was this it? Was this his capacity? What if it was? But more importantly, what if it wasn't? As the weeks turned into months, his speech didn't improve much. The doctors didn't have answers. So I decided I had to find and create my own. I needed to stop crying and face my fears. I created a menu for his meals. He had to say his choice of food before being fed. I sang "I've Been Working on the Railroad" into his Fisher-Price tape recorder day after day, leaving more and more words out of the song, and not continuing until he filled in the blanks. I sat with him every day at preschool because when he couldn't communicate, he'd get frustrated and act out on his classmates. We had a sign language teacher (he learned 500 words the first week). We'd sing songs and recite the names of all the Sesame Street characters over and over again: "Big Bird, Ernie, Bert ..." One day I thought we'd write a series of stories together. I'd say a senten...