My brother, who has autism and is nonverbal, never spoke until he did something that made me cry.
I had just spent five minutes in the shower.
I believed I had ample time to wash my hair because the baby had just been put to bed. My brother Keane was in the living room, as usual, playing his puzzle app silently while wearing headphones. My husband had gone out to fetch groceries.
Keane is reticent to speak. Since we were young, he hasn’t said much. In his modest manner, he is kind, dependable, and tender. He currently resides with us. He simply nodded when we offered. We settled into a rhythm, though I wasn’t sure how it would proceed.
Anyway, I heard the baby sobbing in the middle of the shampoo.
That shrill cry, the one that indicates a problem. I felt sick to my stomach. With my heart racing and the soap still in my ears, I hastily rinsed off. Then there was stillness.
Total quiet.
Anticipating turmoil, I dashed into the hallway.
I froze instead.
Keane was seated in my chair, and the infant was snuggled up on his chest, sound asleep like a tiny ball of dough. As I usually do, one hand was holding him softly while the other was slowly and steadily massaging his back.
Our cat, Mango, was purring on Keane’s lap as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
They appeared to have done it countless times.
With barely a tear in sight, the infant was fast asleep.
Keane avoided eye contact with me. He didn’t have to.
I swear I also lost my ability to breathe.
Keane then whispered something. For the first time in many years
How I was moved to tears by my nonverbal autistic brother’s first words, which I will never forget
Prior to the day he did something that completely broke me, my autistic brother had never spoken.
I was seven years old when my brother Keane was diagnosed with autism at the age of four. I only knew that he was “different,” but I didn’t truly get what that meant. I didn’t yet understand why it hurt when teachers informed me that he needed to be with other children “like him.”
Keane talked, but only briefly. But when he turned four, he stopped talking altogether.
I made the decision to bring Keane to live with me two years ago following the death of our mother. There was never any chance of placing him in a facility. Despite my husband’s initial hesitancy, we both concluded that Keane belonged with us.
My son, Milo, was born a few months ago. Milo was napping one morning, so I used the silence to have a quick bath. As usual, Keane was seated by the window, concentrating on his puzzles while wearing headphones.
I then heard Milo sob. Then there was stillness.
With the shampoo still in my hair, I leaped from the bathtub and hurried to the baby’s room. I froze after that.
Keane was seated in the armchair, massaging Milo’s back tenderly with one arm while holding him with the other. Our cat, Mango, was purring quietly on his lap.
Keane then turned to face me. and uttered his first words after more than two decades:
He was afraid. I listened to his heartbeat.
My eyes immediately filled with tears.
“Coffee,” Keane murmured as he followed me into the kitchen the following morning.
Then, avoiding what he had always done, he looked directly into my eyes and said:
“I’ll look after Milo.”
It was too much.
Keane was changed by Milo in a way I never could have predicted.
He discovered a link.
a goal.
And at last he started talking.
