VT Works

In response to my last post, I’ve received quite a few emails and texts, most of them warm, heartfelt, and full of support. Our community has lost a pillar in Dr. Bob Sanet, and when something like this happens, our instinct is to pull closer, to remind one another of the support we share and the affection that binds us. My farewell to Dr. Sanet was written as a tribute, and naturally it carried emotion. For some, it may have even felt raw. Bob was an important person in my life, and his voice, spirit, and influence will stay with me for as long as I live.

I also want to reassure everyone that I’m doing well. Losing someone like Bob leaves a mark, but I’m leaning on the years of lessons, memories, and friendship he helped shape. Your care and concern these past few days have been a gift, and I’m grateful to each of you for reaching out.

Truly, my hope is we will all share and show the same grace and support for Linda in the days, weeks, and months ahead.

One message in particular, from a long-time friend in the Vision Therapy community, stood out to me. To be honest, I’m still sitting with it. It’s rare to have someone reflect something back to you in a way that feels both affirming and startling. I’m grateful for the sentiment, even if I’m not quite sure how to feel about it just yet.

Robert,

I don’t know if you’ll ever fully see it in yourself, but many of us have watched it happening for years now.

You write about Bob as if his role in your life was irreplaceable, and in many ways it was, but what you may not realize is that the very qualities you admired in him, the ones you say shaped you, have already taken root in you, long before this moment and long before your goodbye.

Bob didn’t just teach you how to practice, he taught you how to be present, how to see people, how to steady a room, how to elevate others by expecting their best. Those aren’t lessons that disappear when a teacher leaves. Those are lessons that continue through the person who learned them.

Robert, we have known each other a long time, and whether you intended it or not, you have already become that person for others. You are already the voice people turn to. You are already the one offering clarity when the path gets foggy. You are already carrying a piece of Bob forward in the way you show up, the way you advocate, the way you give patients and friends your best with both conviction and care.

Mentors don’t choose their successors; life does. And to offer you total clarity, please know that for many of us, life has already chosen you.

The torch wasn’t handed to you in a ceremony, but instead it was passed quietly, gradually, in all the of moments when you chose integrity, compassion, courage, and truth, the same way Bob once did.

So as you honor him, don’t overlook the reality that many of us see: the torch continues through you.
What he was for you, you now are for others. I know you will honor that in the only way you understand, with the respect it deserves, which is truly the greatest tribute you could ever offer Bob.

Carry it with the humility you always have. Carry it with the pride he would have wanted you to feel. You should also know, like truly know, that you are not walking in his shadow. You are walking in his footsteps.

And now, others like me, are walking in yours.

With love, my friend

I don’t share this message because I believe I’ve become anything close to what Bob was; quite the contrary. I share it because it reminded me of something Bob spoke of often: the concept that growth isn’t loud and legacy isn’t announced. It unfolds quietly in the way we show up and hold space for one another. It’s in the conditions we arrange which lead to that ‘a ha’ moment.

If any part of Bob continues through me, it’s only because he poured so much of himself into so many of us. If my footsteps are worth following, I can only hope to choose a path that Bob would be proud of.

Thank you all, again, for your kind words.