The Magic of Camp

As school ended Friday and camp drop off photos flooded my social media feeds it is hard not to feel palpable relief that we survived the school year and after an excruciatingly hard 18 months summer camp has returned. There is nothing that makes me happier than knowing kids will finally have a summer to play freely and heal. In truth the entire world could benefit from a few weeks of camp.

I grew up going to both day and overnight camp -magical summers of play -of making new friends and building my camp family. Singing songs and dancing after every meal, pushing myself out of my comfort zone to try new things. Living in a camp bubble that felt untouchable - a break from school routines and stress - a safe and supported space to grow and dream - a place filled with laughter and joy.

In my late teens I worked at camps over the summer and by then my own health had started to shift downward. One summer my Mom made individualized meals for the freezer to accompany the safe foods I could still eat that were being served. As a mother now I recognize the lengths that she had gone to - so many meals to prepare and package. And yet, she would never want me to miss out so she made it happen.

This has always been my way too since my son was born -knowing there may be hurdles to cross but that there is always a way to make the impossible happen and that his diseases will not define him. I remember worrying that our son would never get to experience the magic of camp and yet we have found a way. I now even catch myself plotting about how we can make overnight camp happen when he is ready. I smile when I think about prepping hundreds of individual meal containers for him to bring and I know I will do that and more if that is what is needed.

Yesterday I met with staff at our son's summer day camp to go over protocols and explain our rare diseases. The Director said to her staff to not be overwhelmed as she introduced me and I said without thought- "why would they be overwhelmed?" As her eyes got big I was reminded that our normal can seem scary to people hearing about it for the first time. But I always begin by reminding them that my son is a playful, silly and sweet seven year old boy. We tell them that his diseases do not define him and we ask that they do not treat him differently because of them. We ask them to push him to try new things and not to overreact if something does go wrong. We hope that our own comfort in our rare normal will help put them at ease. And we tell them we trust them - and we do - because when you find the right team -those willing to learn and think creatively with us, anything truly is possible.

So today after almost two years my son ran out of my car into his happy place. He came home smiling already talking about what tomorrow will hold. And I saw a brightness in him that I have not seen in too long. The magic of camp has arrived and I have never been more grateful.