Gut Wrenching

Today I left lunch and went to greet the parents who were early for the closing program. The first man I met was a camp alumni. He was a camper and then a camp staff in the late 80s. I had spoken with him a few weeks earlier. His wife had died a few months before and his son was struggling with it (obviously). His son had gone to a camp earlier in the summer and had called him midway through the week to demand to be picked up. He was nervous about sending him to our camp, but after we talked, he decided to try it.

His son was a quiet kid, but generally happy and seemed to have a really great time. I stood and talked with the dad and shared some things from the week- it was a typical conversation I have a million times every summer.

But then he told me about his experience with camp. He met his wife at camp- they both worked in the kitchen. He told me several wonderful stories about her and about their summers at camp. He had tears in his eyes and told me he hadn't been back in a long time and he hadn't been sure about returning today because he thought it would be too hard. He had tears in his eyes as he looked around.

He asked me if the rumors about camp closing were true. I told him I didn't know and we were hopeful. Once again, I felt like my heart was being ripped out. The board doesn't seem to understand that this place means so much to people and that if we are closing, we need to let people know. We need to give people like this dad, a chance to come back to a place that played such a huge role in his life and say goodbye. I am SO frustrated that I don't have any answers and that in a few months, I am going to have to tell people like him that we are closing.

His son ended up winning camper of the week in his cabin and as I announced his name, I watched his dad openly cry from the back row of benches. I wanted to cry too. There are so many bittersweet moments each day. I don't know what to think of this summer yet, but today I feel sad.