The day that had only been looming in the back of my mind for the last 3 years.....well that day came and went this morning.
Caden turns 3 on Sunday. Today he had his last class with his little Early Intervention play group, and had the last therapy appointment he will ever have with any of his 'team'. He has officially exited the program.
I knew this day existed. From day one in the program I knew it was out there. I knew what it meant. I thought my having a hard time with it would be solely because it meant my baby was growing up into a big boy.
I was wrong. I was so wrong.
I woke up this morning prepared. Or so I thought. I got up, got him dressed, did his hair, drove Branden to work; it was business as usual. Until I pulled into the school's parking lot. It suddenly hit me: Every person in that building we saw today, today would likely be the last day we saw any of them personally. His little brain wouldn't understand what that meant.
Mine did.
We saw his PT, Barbara, in the halls before his class started. We talked. He even got to see one of his first speech therapists we didn't see at the Christmas party, remembered her (I think) and gave her a hug. I was *fine*....until it was time to go into class and Barbara knelt down on the floor at Caden's level and he walked up to her, laid his head down on her shoulder in a hug, and gave her a kiss. It was a good thing that we both had places to be, because my composure was sliding fast.
He played hard in class, I was fine again during the parent group they have in the building while their kids are in class. Then it was time to go. I was ok getting him from the classroom, relatively composed as he gave each of his teachers and hug and a love and told them 'bye bye, see you!', did fairly good as I gave 'Teacher Sue' a hug myself and we walked down the hall and out of the building.
I dissolved in the car.
You don't interact with those kinds of people on that kind of level for 3 years and not get attached. I don't know how they do it kid after kid after kid, because I was a completely mental, sobbing basket-case on the drive home.
I snapped back into 'keep it together woman!' mode for his last speech therapist appointment, which was right after class and at home, and held it together long enough to get him fed lunch and put down for a nap. Once he was asleep it hit me again.
We were done.
I know that he will have a new support team as he moves into his preschool at Canyonview. He'll love his new class. He'll learn new things. He'll grow. He'll be fine. Where does that leave Mommy? His turning 3 didn't just mean he was growing up, moving on, it meant leaving behind people that have been part of my life, coming into my home every other week and every month since he was 6 weeks old. They became every bit as much MY support team as they were Caden's.
I love them all. And as corny as it might sound, I feel as though I've lost dear friends.
I am going to miss having their beautiful spirits as a presence in my home.
No comments:
Post a Comment