For the entire month of August, I just didn't let myself think about it beyond the facts.
For the last two weeks, I just focused on anything else that took my mind off of it.
Over the weekend I was busy getting things ready, so I was too busy to think about it.
Tuesday came. Miss V came. It was a good visit, with laughing and smiling, and questions asked and answered, and Kit played with her, and smiled and made us laugh like usual. But it was different, and we felt it. I didn't let myself go there, because I didn't want to break down, not that it would have been the first time in front of her (nor the second, or third, or even fourth probably.)
And then it was time for her to go, and we took some pictures, and all the kids hugged her, and I held Kit on my shoulder on the steps so she could wave goodbye until Miss V is out of sight like she has every week for at least five months. And then we closed the door, and Kit went on with business as usual, because she has no idea nor way to process the change, so I haven't even mentioned it. But at some point I'll have to try to explain, and watch her not understand.
Later that afternoon, Victor whisked me away to a little cabin in the woods for our anniversary and between playing cards and the raccoon posse that tried to bust into the cabin and actually having no children chiming in on what to watch on t.v., I didn't think about it, I really enjoyed the break from the busy-ness.
But these things always catch up with me. It did a little bit Wednesday night with Miss V's sweet texts that she sent me. But, now, when the house is quiet, and I'm planning out the day tomorrow, and going over the visit from Kit's new teacher today, it's all hitting me.
All of the changes. And the losses. The loss of stability. The loss of her expertise and reassurance. Losing someone whom my daughter had formed a real connection with, responded to, and really looked forward to her visits. Someone who made us feel capable, and cared for.
Part of her role as Kit's Occupational Therapist was also to educate and prepare us as a family and parents to help Kit find and keep her balance as best as possible. She did this and far more.
When Kit's plan was put in place 10 months ago, I was skeptical that an hour a week with Miss V was going to be enough to really make a difference in the challenges we were facing with Kit. Now I can see how that hour a week with her became somewhat of a lifeline in helping our whole family through some of our toughest moments so far. And it wasn't just because of teaching us techniques to use or her amazing way of working with Kit even for just 15-20 minutes, but the effects of which would last for days.
It was also that she had a finger on Kit's pulse, and by extension on the rest of the family too. And when a protocol she did with Kit showed results, or the suggestions she made were implemented with success, the ripple effects spread through all of us. In helping Kit find what she needed, all the rest of us seemed to get what we needed to.
So in a way, she was our OT too. And our friend.
And all of that is why I'm typing through tears. Because I'm sad, and have to let go of this special person who helped us accomplish so much in such a short time. And that just because of the way things are, that Kit turning three means transition of services, everything has to change and we have to let go of what has been working so well.
And the whole thing just sort of sucks, and I've been very mature about the whole thing all summer, and had to be very grown up about this process, and you know what? I'm just going to sit here and have a really good cry about all of this. Because sometimes change is just really really sad!
And once again, I just want to say thank you, to this awesome lady who has made a big big difference in not just one kid's life, but her family as well.
We will miss you so much!