OT Corner: Transitions and Tributes
By Amy Wagenfeld, Ph.D, OTR/L
Originally printed in July, 2006


It is kind of funny.  Here I am, sitting in front of my computer writing 
about a topic that 18-years-and-three-months ago, I could only think of 
as a weird abstraction, so far in the future that I could not imagine it 
actually being a reality.  So, please indulge me and allow me to veer far 
away from a traditional occupational therapy topic while I spend a few 
minutes talking about an incredible transition that is taking place in 
our home.  Our son, our only son, and in fact, our only child, David, is 
graduating from high school in exactly two weeks.  As I said, 18-years-and-a 
handful-of-months ago, the concept of David preparing to head off to 
college was the last thing I could possibly process.  It was far too many 
transitions in the future to think about.

Why could I not process it?  Maybe the obvious answer is because 
18-years-and-three-months ago, college was not the reality in our lives, 
but David the infant was.  For many of you, infancy is your current reality 
and moving beyond it to toddler-hood may not come fast enough.  It does come 
fast, but at least for me, it was a reflective fast.  I don't presume to 
think it was reflective on a conscious level, who has time to replay each 
moment of their children's' lives in their heads?  Rather, in a quiet time, 
those precious moments when you stroke your sleeping child(ren)'s heads, you 
may have this fleeting awareness of who your child is, where they have been, 
and what they are becoming.  Have any of you experienced these little moments 
of repose?  I think that these are transitional parental moments.  These 
moments are grounding and I think they are the ones we most remember and 
cherish as our children grow.

Sometimes, I think that it seems as if in a blink of an eye, David has gone 
from diapers to driving, from helpless infant to capable young adult.  Perhaps 
it is not the blink of an eye, but rather this amazing unfolding process in 
which he is becoming the person he is to be.  I think this unfolding process 
forms the basis of transitions, the something that is always new and different, 
and yes, keeps us constantly guessing!  Transitions do not stop when children 
learn to walk, talk, use the potty, start school, graduate from high school, 
or even get married.  Transitions last a lifetime and contribute to both our 
individuality and our connections to others.

Maybe that is the beauty of transitions, while they seem to happen all the time, 
and yes, they do, it is a process, maybe even an evolution that helps us sort 
through our days, months, and years.  While I find myself vacillating between 
complete sadness that David is headed to college in the Midwest, far from his 
suburban Boston home, and joy that he is finding wings to fly, I carry close in 
my heart the deep conviction that despite the "gazillions" of transitions that 
lie ahead, he will face them with conviction and strength.  And to you, my son, 
I wish you joy, laughter, love, and happiness.  Happy Graduation, David!