Ok do we have everything? Bug spray? Check. Sunscreen?
Check. Extra socks and shorts? Check.
Headlamp? Check.
As I type this I’m mentally running through the contents of
my son’s footlocker. On this beautiful, sunny, cool July day, my youngest will head
off to his first week of sleep away camp with his Boy Scout troop.
Several months ago, when my son crossed over from Cub
Scouts, we talked about how amazing summer camp would be. n addition to meeting new scouts from troops
all over the area, my son will be able to connect with the boys in his new
troop, work on activities that will earn him merit badges and enjoy the
pleasure of spending a week in the woods without electronics. It all sounded like heaven at the time.
Now that the day has finally arrived, my son is excited but
I’m the one starting to have doubts. As a glass-half-empty kind of gal, images
of doom keep popping into my head: My son struggling to keep his head above
water while the lifeguard casts his gaze elsewhere; a severe thunderstorm that
drops a tree on his tent; a criminal who busts out of MCI Plymouth and manages
to take 500 scouts and their leaders hostage.
I keep these silent fears to myself.
Meanwhile, my son’s biggest concerns are how many bugs he’ll have to
fend off and how much money he’ll get for the trading post.
I know it’s all about letting go. I learned that lesson this past spring when
my older son traveled 1500 miles to New Orleans for his first service trip with
our church. In comparison, Camp Squanto
is a mere 20 miles door to door. If
necessary, I can be there in under an hour.
I need to get a grip and realize that while he might be my “baby”, at 11-years-old he’s a baby
no more.
Despite my irrational fears, on a deeper level I know he’ll
be fine. His scout leaders and the
parent volunteers are there with two missions: keep the kids safe and make sure
the kids have fun. My son will swim
every day, and learn basketry and woodcarving and leatherworking. More importantly, he’ll have to rely on
himself; there’ll be no mom or dad reminding him to take a shower, brush his
teeth or check for ticks.
When we arrived at camp, any concern I may have had about
him making an emotional scene dissolved the minute he dragged his footlocker
over to his troop and began chatting with friends. Not one look back at his father or me. Within
minutes he had found a tent mate. When
it came time to load the luggage onto the truck, he grabbed an end of his
friend’s footlocker and helped him load it, then loaded his own. Though we waited with him through the medical
check-in, we opted not to follow him down to his swim test or help him set up
his bunk. It was time to let him fly
solo.
There’s a family night on Wednesday so parents can visit
their scouts, bring a pizza or a sub for dinner, and watch them participate in
relay events. Though optional, my
husband and I assured my son that we would attend, hoping to alleviate any
homesickness that might occur after our departure. As he trotted off for his swim test, turning
one last time to send me a smile and a wave, I realized that he could easily
make it through the week without us.
I’m the one who’s not quite ready to go an entire week
without him.
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