Do We Need the Insurance?
How my childhood fears almost resulted in my kids missing out on their favorite time of year.
“Should we buy the insurance?” I nervously asked Scott while he was calmly reading the paper in bed.
“No. They didn’t have insurance when I went to camp. He’ll be fine.” His emphatic response accompanied by a slight eye roll made my stomach do more than just another flip and my heart jump slightly outside of my body.
The time had come to register Elliott, age 7, for his first two week adventure at sleepaway camp. Thirteen nights. Three hundred twelve hours away from my first baby. I was counting.
The words “sleepaway camp” conjured up, let’s just say, some tricky memories for me. Camp flashbacks overwhelmed me - my head peering out the yellow school bus window looking back longingly at my mom, my tears washing the side of the bus, as we pulled away for Missouri.
The lead up to leaving for camp was my real time to shine. Feigned stomach aches, imaginary illnesses and repeated chants of “I can’t go” were constants in our house. My sister expressed her disapproval with dramatic eye rolls that silently said, “You are sooo annoying.” My parents encouraged me to “Just try it.”
Upon arrival, I was fine. More than fine, actually. So fine that I didn’t bother to write home for…a lot of days. My poor mom worried the whole time (how evil of me) only to finally get a note two days before camp ended saying I was “having the best time.” You’d think fun memories would outlast the bad memories - but not the case here.
Scott’s camp flashbacks? Some of his greatest memories. Not an ounce of fear, only excitement when he embarked on his multi-week adventure. Scott began regaling our boys with stories of neverending golf rounds, sailing slip ups and comedic cabin mates as soon as they were old enough to comprehend. The boys still request his imitation of the beloved, very southern camp director announcing the arrival of each camper, “And now, arriving from Atlaaanta, Jaw-juh, Scott Harrison.”
Scott loved that camp so much we even considered sending baby Elliott there…on the other side of the country. But I just couldn’t do it. Ultimately, finding a closer solution was an excellent compromise. I set aside my irrational fears of my babies leaving for sleepaway camp and Scott set aside his thoughts of a second generation Seagull.
We sat Elliott down, played a video of Mountain Camp and within fifteen seconds, Elliott in his sweet pitched six-year-old voice responded, “I want to do THAT.” His enormous grin overpowered my grin-and-bear-it grin. Scott’s grin-may have been the biggest of them all.
Elliott’s medical forms were uploaded, questionnaires answered and credit card provided. Clicking submit was my last step. I sat staring at that screen for a long, long, long time, jealous of Scott sleeping worry-free in the next room.
With my elbows on my desk and my hands cradling my face, I battled my fears that would only limit my son while simultaneously trying to find the strength to empower him.
After a few fallen tears, I hit submit and started a six month cycle of underlying worry - escalating when it came time to pack, peaking at drop off and evaporating when the mailman delivered gold - a postcard from camp.
Both of my boys now return from their “favorite two weeks of the year” in their purest forms. Two weeks sans technology with different friends and uplifting counselors does their hearts well. Fourteen days in nature-being in charge of themselves, their activities, their highs and lows-does their independence well. 312 hours living their own lives, bonding over campfire nights and just knowing the other is there does their relationship well.
They return home recalibrated-with more independence, more confidence and more clean clothes than they should. Having experienced a recalibration of my own, I receive them with more pride and love, obsessing over their camp grime and sun-kissed maturing faces.
For the next eleven months and two weeks, they will regale stories of never-ending lake olympics, sleeping-under-the-stars mishaps and comedic cabin mates. Just like their father.
Storytelling is powerful. Little did any of us realize, Scott had been laying the foundation for all of us to fall in love with sleepaway camp. His tales empowered me to push through my fears and reimagine the camp experience for our kids. His stories sparked a curiosity in our boys-a curiosity that led them to discover the magic of trying new things, meeting new people and exploring the world beyond the comforts of your own home.
So sweet, I love how our kids constantly surprise us and teach us oh-so-much about ourselves ❤️
Little did I know how anxious you really were about this. Love the pictures!