Thursday, July 5, 2012

The UP Part of this Roller Coaster

Sometimes, life has a way of knowing when we need a lift, right?  After my last post, when I couldn't kick the blues over the whole "house for sale" business, the next day . . . things just happened that kept lifting me up and up and up.  

First, I got a message from Sam's physical therapist about how the day before she'd had "the best session ever" with Sam, and how Sam had initiated more movement during that session than she ever had before.   And how much she's enjoying watching our girl learn and grow.  Just what I needed. 

Then, we finally, finally got the call that Sam IS going to qualify for our state's supplemental health insurance for those with disabilities (this has been over 10 months in the works -- from when we first tried applying).  Like the parking placard that I hang in my car, these things are a double-edged sword.  I wish I didn't know about this system.  I wish we didn't qualify because, well, I wish my girl had things easier.  But we do, and we need it.   And, this will (hopefully) free up some of our resources to put toward the the private therapies -- hippotherapy, swimming, etc. -- that cost us so much.  The things that our insurance (or this supplemental insurance) won't pay for.  This supplemental insurance will (hopefully, how it works remains to be seen) cover our co-pays for Sam's physical therapy, as well as any future equipment Sammie B needs.  The supplemental program won't pay for speech therapy (nor does our private insurance) which is lame lame lame, but we'll take what we can get and be thrilled to have it.  Finding that we might finally have some extra help with this stuff -- even if only a little -- lifted a tiny part of the heavy weight that I've been carrying.  

And then, later that night, B brought Mia in from day care sleeping in her car seat, and Sam scootched over to watch her wake up.  When Mia opened her eyes, Sammie B said "Hello Mia Mia!" and both girls fell into a fit of giggles.  So so happy to see each other at the end of their days.  And then, later, while B and I made dinner, Sammie B was scooching around, turned to look at her sister, and said, "come on Mia!"  Those are the moments that define us.  The joyful ones.  We may still have a lot of bickering and the usual "sister" stuff, but this stuff -- the friends stuff - the "I want you to be with me and play with me" stuff -- that melts my heart.

So, a house is just a house.  I know that.  We'll continue making amazing wonderful joyful memories whether it is in this house or the next one, and no matter how big or small that house may be, and whether its owned or rented.  Just a house.  The "home" part is made by us.  In the memories.   


Anonymous said...

I'm so glad to hear this. I was going to comment on your previous post that while you were feeling heavy and sad now, when you eventually got to your new place, seeing Sammie B moving and grooving in more space would make you think, "Why was I ever sad in the first place!" So I'm glad you got more immediate uplift and don't have to wait so long. Life does work in mysterious and wonderful ways, doesn't it?

Kate Sherwood said...

I just love hearing about the sweet interactions between Sammie B. and Mia.