There is a strange, beautiful kind of nostalgia in returning to a place that once held your hopes for your child’s future. This week, our family took a step back in time and a giant leap forward.

My son, Sheamus, is at a massive crossroads. He’s 16, standing on the edge of adulthood with his 17th birthday quickly approaching on February 8th. As he prepares for that final stretch of his teenage years, I realized that the support he had as a toddler was exactly what he needed again to navigate his future.

The Way We Were

If I close my eyes, I can still see 3-year-old Sheamus walking through the doors of the United Cerebral Palsy (UCP) Center. Back then, he was just a little guy finding his way.

It’s a common misconception because of the name, but Sheamus doesn't have CP; UCP simply provides some of the most specialized, compassionate care in the region. For a while, that center was our second home. He spent hours there in Speech and Occupational Therapy (OT), building the foundation for the young man he is today. Eventually, he "graduated" or moved on, and those therapy sessions became a chapter in his baby book.

Ten Years in a Heartbeat

Fast forward a decade. The toddler is now a 16-year-old young man. The world is bigger, the challenges are more complex, and the stakes feel higher as we look toward his transition into adulthood.

I decided it was time to go back. Walking back into the UCP center after ten years felt like a time warp. The walls might have different paint and the equipment might be newer, but the heart of the place remains the same.

The most incredible moment? Walking in and seeing Mrs. C, the director. Not only is she still there leading the way, but she remembered us. There is a special kind of peace that comes with knowing your child is in the hands of someone who has seen their journey from the very beginning.

New Faces, Same Mission

While the familiar face of Mrs. C gave us a sense of continuity, Sheamus is starting this new chapter with a fresh team. His therapists are different people than the ones who worked with his 3-year-old self, but the goals are remarkably similar:

• Speech Therapy: Focusing on the communication skills he needs for the "real world," social confidence, and expressing himself as a young man.

• Occupational Therapy (OT): Working on the life skills and coordination that will help him gain independence as he nears 18.

Looking Ahead to 17

There is something poetic about starting this journey now. With his birthday on February 8th, Sheamus is reclaiming these tools just in time. This isn't about "fixing" anything it’s about giving him every advantage possible as he prepares for the next phase of his life.

Going back to where it all began feels like the circle is closing, but in the best way possible. We are older, Sheamus is much taller, and the goals have changed but the commitment to his success is exactly the same as it was ten years ago.

Welcome back, Sheamus. We can’t wait to see what you achieve this time around.

There is a strange, beautiful kind of nostalgia in returning to a place that once held your hopes for your child’s future. This week, our family took a step back in time and a giant leap forward.

My son, Sheamus, is at a massive crossroads. He’s 16, standing on the edge of adulthood with his 17th birthday quickly approaching on February 8th. As he prepares for that final stretch of his teenage years, I realized that the support he had as a toddler was exactly what he needed again to navigate his future.

The Way We Were

If I close my eyes, I can still see 3-year-old Sheamus walking through the doors of the United Cerebral Palsy (UCP) Center. Back then, he was just a little guy finding his way.

It’s a common misconception because of the name, but Sheamus doesn't have CP; UCP simply provides some of the most specialized, compassionate care in the region. For a while, that center was our second home. He spent hours there in Speech and Occupational Therapy (OT), building the foundation for the young man he is today. Eventually, he "graduated" or moved on, and those therapy sessions became a chapter in his baby book.

Ten Years in a Heartbeat

Fast forward a decade. The toddler is now a 16-year-old young man. The world is bigger, the challenges are more complex, and the stakes feel higher as we look toward his transition into adulthood.

I decided it was time to go back. Walking back into the UCP center after ten years felt like a time warp. The walls might have different paint and the equipment might be newer, but the heart of the place remains the same.

The most incredible moment? Walking in and seeing Mrs. C, the director. Not only is she still there leading the way, but she remembered us. There is a special kind of peace that comes with knowing your child is in the hands of someone who has seen their journey from the very beginning.

New Faces, Same Mission

While the familiar face of Mrs. C gave us a sense of continuity, Sheamus is starting this new chapter with a fresh team. His therapists are different people than the ones who worked with his 3-year-old self, but the goals are remarkably similar:

• Speech Therapy: Focusing on the communication skills he needs for the "real world," social confidence, and expressing himself as a young man.

• Occupational Therapy (OT): Working on the life skills and coordination that will help him gain independence as he nears 18.

Looking Ahead to 17

There is something poetic about starting this journey now. With his birthday on February 8th, Sheamus is reclaiming these tools just in time. This isn't about "fixing" anything it’s about giving him every advantage possible as he prepares for the next phase of his life.

Going back to where it all began feels like the circle is closing, but in the best way possible. We are older, Sheamus is much taller, and the goals have changed but the commitment to his success is exactly the same as it was ten years ago.

Welcome back, Sheamus. We can’t wait to see what you achieve this time around.