Her Encore Senior Year
During 2018, my daughter was like the young man in this article. I could see the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis as B continued to spread her wings. She was gone as often as she was at home – she had a flourishing social life, was active in the theater department at school, was taking Dual Credit and AP classes, held down a good job and was looking forward to the next big thing.
It was her junior year and she already had a plan in place. She’d attend the local community college and earn her Certified Occupational Therapy Assistant certificate, work for a few years and then go back to school to become a full Occupational Therapist.
Since B was already taking some of the COTA course requirements through her high school, she was well on her way. Her dream was to work with elderly people and she couldn’t wait to help them with their daily tasks – and just as important, to listen to their stories.
She was well-acquainted with the rambling and confusing stories her future patients might tell, just as her grandfather had during the last few years of his life. She spent so much time just holding his hand, listening to Big Band music, watching Notre Dame games and tucking his big soft blanket around him.
But something troubled her during visits to the nursing home. There were so many people who didn’t have visitors (even on holidays) and seemed so lonely. Walking through the halls of that nursing home, poking her head into various rooms to greet other residents, she KNEW she’d have some type of career caring for those who were neglected by others.
As much as B loved spending time with the elderly, she also loved the idea of starting her career in California. Although we probably should have saved the money, we visited California in early April 2018. It was a fantastic trip and I’m so thankful we went when we could.
Not too long after our trip, she began putting together the details of moving to California after earning her COTA. She had researched safe (but not extravagant) neighborhoods in southern California. B had even put together a monthly budget with detailed expenses like insurance and she was so ready to start her future.
Anyway, back to the parallel with the Grown & Flown article. Even though B was home much less often during 2018, I was pretty excited about it. That sounds harsh on paper, but the reality is that I was soooo excited to see her making plans and taking steps toward her dream. We had (and still have) a good relationship, so I knew I was going to miss her as she launched her adult life – but I also REALLY loved watching her increased joy, confidence and wisdom.
And then on June 28th 2018 the phone rang while I was vacuuming. B had been in a car accident and life changed. Although she seemed fine initially, she was ultimately diagnosed with a mild concussion, that turned into post-concussion syndrome (PCS) which she still suffers from to this day.
Since that time, she and I ended up with a bonus “senior” year as she attended physical therapy, speech therapy, a million doctor’s appointments and so much more. Some days we were together literally 24 hours a day – when she was scared or couldn’t sleep, we’d even share a room. It’s even gotten to the point where we don’t just finish each other’s sentences, we often say the exact same thing, at the exact same time, with the exact same inflection.
The last 19 months have been horrible in many ways for both of us. As a parent, I’ve felt helpless watch my daughter struggle and deal with frequent setbacks. She’s still not back to 100% and we’re still researching treatment options to help her get back on track for her future. But I’ve also found peace and joy throughout this journey (when I wasn’t exhausted or had tears silently dripping down my face).
So, whether your child’s senior year is rapidly flowing through the hourglass – or it’s been tipped over, turning back time – appreciate every moment without being sad that it’s the “last” this or “final” that. And just like the beach sand you can’t completely shake off your feet, you’ll always carry your child’s memories with you every step you take.