Patient Newsletter: September 2024
It's good to be back.
Dear Patients and Friends,
A few months ago, I announced to you all that I would take the summer off from patient care to spend more time with Hadley. She is a senior in high school and will be going to college next fall.
Just typing those words has made me short of breath.
As many of you know, Hads is the youngest of my three. So, I should be a professional at this. I have launched two older kids already. Maisy is 24 and in medical school at Mount Sinai in NYC. Sam is 22 and pursuing his PhD in Mechanical Engineering at the University of Delaware. They are both happy, healthy, and in fantastic relationships with kids we adore. They are also close enough that we see them often.
So, why am I needing to meditate every time I imagine Haddie leaving? It’s not that this will make us empty nesters. It’s not that she is “my baby.” I love all my kids and each one has been both my favorite AND least favorite at times. (Stop. If you have more than one kid, you know I am speaking the truth.)
Anyway, Haddie is different. She has always been my mini-me. Not only do we look alike, but since she was tiny, she has been so attached to me. At three years old, she would put on my heels, grab my purse, and announce that she had to go “see her patients.” Here she is at three talking about “her work":
She talks to me… like really talks to me... in full sentences, not grunts. She asks me questions about my day and my life. Sincere questions, not: “When’s dinner” and “Have you seen my dark wash denim jeans with the rip on the right knee?”
She is sensitive and kind and funny. She tells me she loves me every day and never goes to bed without giving or getting a good night hug. (BTW, now I am typing through tears.)
All that to explain why this one is especially hard.
The other piece is that I have tremendous feelings of guilt, which I have written about often. When Maisy and Sam were young, I was building the practice, and rarely home. The summer after Maisy’s first year of college, we drove by a group of kids and parents holding signs announcing a charity car wash. She looked at me and said, “Hey Mom, remember when you did that with me?” I was perplexed for a second. She quickly followed up with, “Oh. Wait. You never did.” I felt an immediate and searing pain in my chest and tears sprung to my eyes. As soon as she saw my face she touched my arm gently and said, “But wait, Mom, I bet none of those moms were building an amazing practice and taking care of thousands of people. I am proud of you.” In one 30-second span, Maisy went from being that day’s least favorite to most favorite.
Fast forward to 6 years later. I am finally in a position at the practice to be able to step away for an entire summer. We continually work to have the right people and processes in place so that I, personally, don’t need to be there. Taking this summer off was a no-brainer for me. So, many of you have asked, how was it?
In a word: absolutely perfect. (Ok sticklers, I know that’s two words.)
Don't get me wrong. Hadley had a car and loads of friends. She even had her first boyfriend (and soon after, her first breakup). She wasn’t with me all day, every day. In fact, she was usually not with me. So why do I say it has been incredible?
I planted and tended to a gorgeous, overflowing garden. I composted and weeded and watered and pruned to my heart's content. I exercised every single day, read ten books, and watched baseball obsessively – as I type this, Ranger Suarez just went from being my favorite pitcher to being one of my least favorite (Taiwan Walker is firmly in that number one position).
Most important, though, was my presence. I was home when Haddie got back from her coffee clatches with friends. I was home when she left for and got back from her dates. I was home when she woke up and usually the last person she saw before she went to bed. I could tell when she was worried, happy, excited, or sad. Not because she told me but because I was there to see it.
We visited colleges, spent weekends at the beach, got acai bowls, and attended several Phillies games (before they clinched the division and started playing like the Bad News Bears). But my most cherished moments this summer were here at home.
One muggy July afternoon, Haddie came home, plopped on the couch opposite me, and started telling me about a "thing" on her mind. About 40 minutes into our chat, she kept getting texts from a friend, to which she two-hand-typed replies with superhuman speed and dexterity (think Bryson Stott turning a 4-6-3 double-play). Eventually, her friend gave up on texting and called. Haddie rolled her eyes as she answered. I could only hear her side of the conversation: "I will call you back,” she said. “I am talking to my mom... yes. STILL."
As parents with "big" busy careers, we accumulate years of regret. In a summer full of some of my life’s greatest moments, that one sentence erased most of mine. I did not miss hundreds of hours of patient time for some pretty amazing cucumbers. I missed them for a well-timed forty-minute chat.
To all of you who so graciously allowed me this time with my garden, my books, my Phillies, and most of all, my family, thank you. For those of you who grumbled a little, also, thank you. That shows me how much faith you have in me.
I love you all so much. It is good to be back.
C
P.S. GO PHILS!
P.P.S. If you aren’t a baseball fan, sorry for all the references.
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