Never Give Up: Teaching My non-Verbal Son Skills I Thought Impossible

The first time I remember hearing about Occupational Therapy, I had no idea what it meant. Out of all the services my young son had compiled for early intervention, O.T. was the one mystery.

Physical therapy? I knew that one. Fighters get that when rehabbing injuries. My little guy was a fighter. Speech? Special Education? Those too were old-school phrases that I could wrap my head around.

Occupational therapy sounds like deep conversations you have with a skilled worker. In reality, it’s a professional who helps those struggling with daily activities. Think physical therapy, but not limited to physical movement. It’s a lot of pinchers, grabbers, and dexterity.

Still confused? I was too until COVID. That was when we did Zoom calls with Lucas’s OT and saw some of the activities. Out of all our remote learning sessions, pulling pennies from Play-Doh was the most fun and unexpected. That was OT.

My boy struggled (and still struggles) with certain hand motions and movements. It often requires focus and unless he’s shown how to turn or open something, he doesn’t understand what needs to be done.

Because of that, it’s easy to forget that he can be taught. As Lucas gets older, some of his missed milestones solidify in my head and become almost permanently overlooked. We start figuring out ways to help him through, rather than showing him how to do it himself.

Case in point – getting into the car. Since birth, my son has had a chauffeur-like entrance into any vehicle. I come around, I pull the handle, and let him in. In many cases, I wave my arm out in a sweeping welcome motion. Enter the jeep, kind sir.

This has been the case forever and, given that his 16-year-old sister could help, it started to become her job to open the car door for him. She didn’t protest at all and was absolutely wonderful in how quickly she rushed to get him into the car.

This went on for a little while until I started to think, “Is this really her lesson or should it be his?”

After all, I may not be keen on teaching him how to get out of the car, but getting inside of it was fairly safe. There’s no concern about him randomly opening the door and getting hurt if the car is parked. The potential for the ol’ pop-open, tuck-and-roll from the inside out while barreling down Sunrise Highway is what scares me the most.

So, I started to teach him how to open the car door. Ready to leave, I’d motion to the handle just as I once motioned to the opened door. He was barely able to configure his hand around it to pull, but he made the attempt.

You do, Lucas. Open.

I’d watch as his fingers would slip from the grip. The door remained closed and, right from the start, I knew this lesson would take forever.

Forever, it turns out, is three days. It took three days for him to master this.

I kid you not. Having never opened a car door in his life, Lucas took a bit to get his bearings and, within the first day, he was doing it with two hands. Even with his massive frame, it was adorable watching him pull the handle with both fists. It was like watching him pull the sword from the stone.

By day three, he was walking past the door and sticking out one hand. Without even looking, he was popping it open and jumping inside. Three days in and this kid’s like the friggin’ Dukes of Hazzard over here.

Keep in mind, I was not only convinced he couldn’t do this, but I didn’t even think about teaching him. This concept was so far off the radar and a part of the milestone list I had long accepted would go unchecked that I didn’t even consider had become a possibility. I didn’t think of how these achievements, written off a decade ago, could be things he can do now.

Opening the car door is one of them. Just like eating with a fork or putting away his toys, Lucas may have struggled the first time we introduced these concepts. We may have had a laundry list of things to teach him since then. All of that passed time and my diverted focus put checklist items like opening a car door on the back burner and made me forget that it was even possible.

It’s possible. Anything is possible. I believe in my boy and he shows us every day that my faith is well placed. It fills me with pride today and hope for what is still left to come. He’s always growing and always learning. My job is to always remember that and always be teaching.