What Ryan Taught Me About "Tomorrow": A Story About Understanding Non-Verbal Cues and Building Connection at Home
If you spend a day with Ryan, there is one question you are almost guaranteed to hear first thing in the morning and dozens of times throughout the day:
"Tomorrow?"
It’s a funny, familiar little routine of his that never fails to make me laugh. For a long time, it was just one of those endearing quirks - a question that popped up constantly, no matter what we were doing or where we were.
In our house, "tomorrow" is almost always tied to the people Ryan holds closest to his heart.
When we moved further away from his nephew, Locky, Ryan missed him terribly. Having grown up together with only a few years between them, they’ve always been more like brothers than uncle and nephew. Ryan would ask about him continuously: "Locky tomorrow..." Because Locky lives further away and we usually only see him during school holidays, waiting felt endless to Ryan.
To help him make sense of the wait long before we had a proper wall calendar, I used to draw up countdowns on our chalkboard or set up magnet calendars on the fridge. Ryan would walk over, mark off the day, and count down the sleeps until he could finally see Locky again.
These days, you'll hear that exact same phrase echoing around the house, but now it’s usually about his friend Mason. He’ll walk around repeatedly announcing to anyone listening: "Mason tomorrow... my friend Mason tomorrow!"
I giggle writing that back because Mason is easily one of Ryan's favourite people in the world. His older brother, Josh, gets a huge kick out of it too - mostly because Josh used to be number one before Mason came along!
Sometimes Ryan will walk right up to Josh, look him in the eye, start with a serious "Josh..." before launching into "Mason tomorrow!" He says it so often, Josh already knows exactly what’s coming. It has become this hilarious moment they share.
Learning Ryan's Language
Watching Ryan count down those days for Locky and repeat those phrases for Mason eventually made everything click into place for me.
Concepts like yesterday, today, or tomorrow are completely abstract. You can't touch "tomorrow," and you can't see "later." That makes time a tricky thing to hold onto.
I came to realise that when Ryan repeats phrases like "tomorrow," he isn't just asking for a date on a calendar. He is searching for predictability, reassurance, and connection. He is holding onto the excitement of seeing someone he loves while looking for safety in knowing what comes next. Having a concrete way to count down those days gives him comfort, grounds him in his moment, and reassures him that the good things in his life are secure.
It wasn't just a repetitive phrase - it was Ryan inviting us into his world, sharing what matters most to him, and giving us a gentle doorway to help him feel safe.
Turning "Tomorrow" Into a Conversation
Once I understood what he was truly seeking, the way we talked about our days transformed. Most of the time, I answer him directly by laying out our day step-by-step:
"We're going to see Mason today, and then we're going to basketball!"
If we are at home, I'll show him on the skylight wall calendar - the natural evolution of those early chalkboard countdowns - and point it out so he can see the visual for himself.
Other times, when I’ve heard it several times already that morning, I'll give a gentle giggle and ground him back in the present:
"Let's worry about today!"
Then, we run back through what's happening right now, tying abstract moments to concrete routines like after lunch or after gym.
When we don't have set plans for the next day, I turn it back to him with a choice:
"What would you like to do tomorrow?"
By pairing visual tools with spoken routines and gentle choices, a simple repeated question becomes a rich, two-way conversation. It gives him space to express his preferences, builds his confidence, and reassures him that his voice is always heard.
Caring Enough to Listen
Supporting someone with non-verbal or complex communication doesn't always require high-tech devices, fancy applications, or specialised equipment.
At its core, it comes down to caring enough to pay attention, validating how they feel, learning how they navigate the world, and meeting them right where they are.
Ryan teaches me every single day that when someone struggles to find the words, we just have to listen with our hearts. ❤️