Taking my daughter to camp on Father’s Day. Or letting go with Stickum on your palm.
Yesterday we left our daughter at camp for two weeks.
Between the drive there, getting her settled, childless Father’s Day dinner for hubby at some Outback off the interstate after dropping her off, it was 45 minutes shy of a twelve hour adventure.
It was a beautiful spot.
Swimming in a lake. Cabins filled with bunk beds and windows wide open, cooled only by breeze of a mid-June day. Tennis, horse-back riding, archery — all standard camp fun, except my little camper had never been to this camp before and many of these girls had been going there for years.
So I worried.
I worried the entire day Saturday double-checking the list, making sure all was packed.
I knew this would be way out of her comfort zone. Way out of any 12 year old’s comfort zone. And knowing what she would experience that first day or so (feeling like the new kid), put me way out of my comfort zone. And with the unplugged policy for campers, she wouldn’t be able to text or call home with the news of how miserable she was that first night.
On the drive up there, I was thinking how difficult it is to be a parent. Knowing something is going to be fabulous for your child, but knowing it is going to be hard too.
I thought some about my dad — how he wanted to shelter me from anything that pushed me out of my comfort zone. How most of my adult life has been pushing those boundaries that I never dared as a child.
My daughter will have an awesome time. Heck, I was ready to stay for two weeks as a camper but that would mean that my daughter would never have spoken to me again.
I love her. I loved my dad.
We both did and are doing the best we could with what we were given to raise our daughters.
The job never seems to get any easier — or maybe it never gets any easier to let go.
I know how you are feeling. I am dropping Trinity off at a camp bus to go to sleep away camp for a week on Sunday all by herself. She doesn’t know anyone and wouldn’t let me drive her there. She wants to make friends on the bus trip to the camp, plus she knows I can’t really drive the mountains. Either way I am stressed and happy. Praying it will be perfect and give her memories to last a lifetime. xoxo I hope the same for your daughter.
My mother assures me the letting go never gets easier. I am 41. It’s a big love.
I think Jennifer’s mom is right.
It’s hard, but it’s good.
We all do our best.
We all make mistakes.
May our children become stronger in spite of our errors.
May they grow up responsible and respectable.
May they love their Creator with everything they’ve got.
I haven’t had to experience this yet, but I can imagine ho hard it would be to send her off knowing how great and hard it may be for her. I bet two weeks felt like a really long time. Hope she has had a great time and you too!
KC
I went to camp when I was that age. I went for a week and loved it. The next year I think I went for three weeks. I would be a train wreck dropping off my Girly for a week away at camp, particularly not having any communication. Having said that, I know she would come home having had a wonderful time. I’m sure yours will too!
I was thinking of sending my boy to camp next summer. He will be 10 and think he would have a blast. But I admit, the minute I think about leaving him there it gets A LOT harder. Hope she has a great time!!
Hi Jamie,
You captured it all — mother/daughter, daughter/father. Brought a tear to my eye. You know I always cry at tender, insightful, good things. You are the best!
Love you,
Nanny
Thanks Nannie. I know what a special relationship you had with your father.
[…] my youngest and I hit Legoland. After we dropped our daughter off at camp on Sunday, I told my youngest we’d head to Florida and play a […]
I’m a shelter-er, like your dad. I need to push more…(let go)
Mercy me.