Little Sir Echo

We started singing to Jacob before he was born, and we never stopped. By the time he could lisp a few words, he sang along. We soon developed a game. I would sing all but the last word in a line of a song, and he would supply the missing word.

“Stand up, stand up for . . .”

“DEEEESUS!”

“Ye soldiers of the . . .”

“CWOSS!”

After his near drowning he couldn’t speak for a year. When his brain and tongue finally reconnected, we made a remarkable discovery. We played the singing game again, and Jacob–his slurred speech thick as molasses–didn’t miss a single word. All those song lyrics were still in there–from the nursery rhymes we sang to him as a baby to the latest Plankeye recordings he’d received for his fifteenth birthday two weeks before the accident.

Fast forward to today. George and Jacob were in the kitchen grabbing a set of car keys to go to Longview, and Jacob asked, “Which car are we taking?”

George answered, “Little Sir Echo” (the oh-so original name we gave our Toyota Echo).

From the living room I sang, “Little Sir Echo, . . .”

Jacob responded, “I’m calling you.”

“Hello . . .”

“Hello.”

“Hello . . .”

“Hello.”

“Little Sir Echo, . . .”

“How do you do?” He said these words while following George into the foyer, but didn’t miss a beat. We volleyed the chorus of “Hellos” until I sang, “Won’t you come over . . .”

“To play?” They’d reached the front door.

“I can tell by your . . .”

“Voice”

“You’d be so . . .”

“Nice to know!” George opened the door and stepped out. From the living room, I sang, “But you’re always . . .”

“So far away!” He followed George out, and they shut the door.

There are many things I miss with Jacob, but so many more things I treasure. One is a recording of a toddler’s sweet soprano warbling these same words with his mother. Words that found their way to a place in his brain so deep and sacred, not even the murky waters of Caddo Lake could wash them away. Words that rise to the surface to remind me that my son is still my son, though the voice now is deep and the pitch uncertain.

Echos from the past. “So far away,” yes, but still a voice “so nice to know.”