Pass me the past, please
Today I spent a very pleasurable morning with Denby preparing for Gail's wedding. A hot cup of tea, chatting, (putting the world to rights), all while doing the easy grunt work while Denby attached strips of fabric to pew boughs and turned them into something elegant. (And I did turn an eye when she re-did the bows that I had attached but not too well!) The day before a wedding.
The changing of a life.
My afternoon was allright. I had an appointment with the IN coordinator at KS. More Sebastian, you wonder?
Actually Carys.
I wasn't overly surprised to hear that she was being assessed. She is so quiet she doesn't ask for help and easily slips through the system. When I am helping in some classrooms, there are kids who grab my sleeve and ask for my help in the project they are doing and don't let go until they've solved it. Carys isn't that kid. Carys is the kid who in kindy often wouldn't eat snack because she was too shy to ask the teacher for help in opening the lid of her tupperware container.
"And the lid wasn't even too tough," the teacher would apologise. "If it looked difficult I would have helped her!"
Hmm.
Carys and lids, lids and Carys.
One of Carys' biggest challenges is her handwriting. (There is a lack of spatial awareness as well, I should add!). She doesn't really understand the concept of finger spaces, and that all words need to be on the line.
But her pencil grasp is bad and she often complains of her fingers and hands hurting.
Could this be due to her prematurity?
Dr Google and The Fantastic Physician who together with God saved Carys' life on many occasions confirmed after the appointment that this was very likely the case. The teacher and Fantastic Physician recommended OT.
I had been talking to Denby this morning about GUILT. Guilt that came coursing through me this afternoon when I realised Carys was still reeling from being a preemie. Maybe. Possibly.
It will take me a while, but I know I can let this go. I don't have to relive this.
God prepares us for things. Talking today with Denby made me realise just how much I had held on to, just how unhealthy my guilt was, and how easy the triplet's prematurity would have been to be my excuse or opiate for my life. I was remembering that conversation when I walked in to see the IN fellow.
Tomorrow I am going to a wedding. The changing of a life.
The changing of my life. I'm not going to blame myself for Carys' OT issues. I will help her, but not out of guilt. Out of love.
After all, the greatest of these, is love.
