Leaving the life (part 1)

While this blog is really all about the adventure of embracing and enduring our new life on St. John, right now, in addition to the logistics involved in doing so, there's a huge element of leaving behind our current life.

Of course with her due to leave tomorrow(!) this is much more acute for Leslie. Not only has she been going over actual and imaginary checklists dealing with what to/not to bring, worrying just a little about being on her own for a while, and a host of other concerns, she's feeling an extra tug on her heart and she deals with seeing most of her patients and their families for the last time - at least the way she does now.

For those of you that may not know, Leslie is a pediatric physical therapist. She struck out on her own some twenty two years or so ago, and has been helping kids and their families deal with a wide range of medical problems, from the mild and correctable to the severe and chronic. Because she loves kids young and old, she puts more than her therapist skills into her work, and over the years I've seen, countless times, the respect and love that these families have for her when we've run into them while out and about.

Here's a note Leslie jotted down that gives an example of how some of these final sessions go;

Saying goodbye to special needs kids who are old enough to get it  - here's the typical conversation:

Leslie: "Do you know where Ms Leslie likes to go on vacation?"
 
Cute as hell kid: "Yeah, the place with fish"
 
Leslie: "Well there are kids there like you who don't get any therapy. And you have had lots. What do you think about that?"
 
Kid with big eyes: "It makes me sad"
 
Leslie: "Me too. Do think we should do something about it .... like you could share me with those kids?"
 
Kid (whose  big eyes are now either avoiding eye contact , tearing up, or has gone into 30-45 second pause mode) "I guess so"
 
Leslie: "Well then I guess that makes you a hero because you are giving me permission to help those kids! How do you feel?"

Kid ( some crying) : "I feel happy but I will miss you. "
 
Leslie: "I will miss you more than you know."

Kid (that then breaks my heart):  "Those vacation kids are lucky."

Therapy days can be long after three or four of these conversations in a row!  But then we take steps or jump or stand on one foot for the first time! And I remember what it's really about and I smile... until I see the  parent "leaking" too.

I have to say that reading that makes the task ahead of me, to dispose of most of our "stuff", much easier when it's put in its proper perspective.