From Letters to Language: Dominic's Journey

Dominic’s world once revolved around letters.

A, B, C, D. All spoken clearly, lovingly, and on repeat. They were familiar. Safe. Reliable. But beyond, there was silence. No “hi.” No “bye.” No “mama.” His mother, Jill, sensed the absence before it had a name. She could feel it the way you feel a shift in temperature: subtle at first, unmistakable once noticed.

When Dominic was diagnosed with autism at two years old, the question was not whether he could learn, but how. How would he be able to communicate what he needed? How would he connect with peers, find his place, move through the world without losing himself along the way?

Widening the Frame

The first goal sounded simple and proved anything but: help Dominic say what he needed.

When he began services with Easterseals Midwest, his days were shaped by cautious assessment and attentive observation. Language existed, but it was contained in narrow, familiar channels. The work was not to replace Dominic's interests, but to widen the frame surrounding them, to let communication extend and breathe.

Progress arrived steadily, and then it gathered momentum. Almost without warning.

Words began linking together. Two at a time. Then three. Sentences emerged, not rehearsed or coaxed, but with a purpose. Dominic learned not only how to speak, but when and why. Language shifted from labeling the world around him to opening it up.

When Language Finds Its Purpose

Now, Dominic is a presence.

He leads group activities. He sits with others at art tables, hands busy with paint and paper. He plays soccer. He hits piano keys and listens for what answers back. His interests have increased tenfold, growing room by room, sound by sound. The alphabet will always be there, but now it shares space with color, movement, music, and those around him.

The change is both visible and deeply personal for his mother, Jill. Growth no longer looks like a checklist of skills, but a broadening sense of self. Dominic is figuring out who he is - what he enjoys, what he avoids, what he wants to try next. He is making his own choices.

One moment, in particular, holds everything else together:

Dominic looked up and said, “Hold my hand.”

Sure, a small sentence. Three words. And yet, everything is there: connection being named, closeness by request, relationship acknowledgement. Communication, yes... but also trust.

Behind every bit of growth is a partnership that extends beyond the clinic walls. Easterseals works alongside families, sharing data, strategies, and practical tools that carry into everyday life. Parenting, as Jill often says, does not come with a manual. Support can change that.

An Open Future

Looking into the future, Jill’s hopes for Dominic are expansive without being prescriptive. She would love for him to have the chance at opportunities. Relationships. To experience the same fullness any child deserves. Not a narrowed future, but an open one.

He’s already stepping into it, one decision at a time.

Not defined by what he once lacked, but by the choices he is now empowered to make.