Every Summer as I see people post pictures on social media of their kids leaving for camp I am reminded of my camp journey and how deep it truly goes. At first, I went to sleepover camp for three weeks and I cried every single day of homesickness. At the first camp I went to roughing it was not my cup of tea, but I roughed it and left with souvenirs like bug bites and scabs. I found out later from my dad that the first year my mom actually drove up to camp one day with an extra blanket and she was told it wasn’t a great idea. My dad said my mom cried and missed me too. I really needed a camp that I now call a “blow dryer camp.” A camp with some more amenities, the modern conveniences.
After that I went to a camp which checked off all my boxes as a blow dryer camp. I really could bring my blow dryer this time. In my day though the best part of camp were “care packages” which consisted of candy that you had to hide, magazines, comics, mad libs, and wait did I say candy? I got a package that had a lemon Jolly Rancher stick. Yes, back then they came in both sticks and individual pieces. The flavors of choice were watermelon, cherry, strawberry, or apple. All my friends were getting the good flavors and I couldn’t believe I was getting the lemon yellow flavor. My mom’s handwriting, which was usually very pretty, was a little off too. Something seemed strange.
I wrote a letter saying what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me? When it was time to go home, my mom was usually the first one waiting for me to get off the bus. This year (1976) I couldn’t see her. When I got off the bus, my dad and nana said my mom had been in the hospital and they would take me right there. We drove to the hospital and their I saw my mom right after camp. I remember my dad and nana gave us privacy and I sat on her lap and talked about everything while she laid in her hospital bed. She said she would go home soon. She seemed to be okay. The following week my mom and I were alone in her hospital room and I didn’t know what happened but she couldn’t breathe so I ran to get help. I remember hearing Code Blue or Code Red, I think it could be Blue. Whatever it was I can’t remember right now living this trauma over again. After that she was in ICU until she passed away Sept 13th.
Enter my kids. Blair did not go to sleep over camp until she was 11. As you can tell her and I were/ are attached at the hip and I am not sure she wanted to leave me. She finally decided to go to camp and I sent her to a camp that checked off the list as a blow dryer camp thinking she needed more amenities like me. Guess what? Silly me… she didn’t like it. The next year I sent her to a camp where they really roughed it. And she loved it. I was shocked. Although they loved camp, every time Blair or Ethan would get on the bus I would put my sun glasses on and just sob. I always ran screaming their names as the buses would pull away and then cry and miss them everyday until they came home. Then I wished they were back at camp. The idea of sending my kids to camp was hard with knowing that my mom passed away when I came home but I know camp was the best thing for them.
Spilling The Beans 