Being the parent of a kid at camp is sooooo much different from being the camper. Having spent many summers at this camp when I was young, I have a general sense of what SG’s doing and the kind of experience she’s having. The summers we spent at camp were transformative and we want to give that same opportunity to our daughter. Hers will be different experiences from ours, but hopefully similar in meaning and discovery.
Mr. B also spent his childhood going to Jewish summer camp and many of his experiences mirror mine. We forged friendships we still have today. We grew in people skills and learned about other kids and how other families do things. We learned some Hebrew (he learned more than I did), a boatload of Jewish songs and prayers, and that Judaism encourages us to take responsibility for ourselves and things beyond ourselves. We heard about shocking world issues for the first time. We grew in awareness about our religion, other cultures, and where we might fit into the puzzle. And we had fun doing it. We learned so much about who we are and what we are capable of. We felt like part of a special community.
But we didn’t realize we were learning all of that at the time. Thank goodness our parents knew how important the experience was. The responsibility and privilege that comes with being entrusted to raise another person to adulthood led us to want the same for our child. We want her to discover more about who she is and where she fits into the larger community. We want her to care about her religion and culture and its future. We hope she will know and share our values.
But Sweet Girl has never left home like this and it is (understandably) a huge transition for her. We see pictures online every night of her participating in activities and smiling, but we get letters like this one. It’s a strange position to be in… wanting to set her free to grow and to have new experiences but needing reassurance that she’s ok.
As her mother, I know SG better than anyone else. We are very close and we spend a great deal of time together. She tends to seek even more closeness while I turn the other way, needing some personal space. I know her insecurities, fears, and tendencies but I also know that she surprises us (and herself) by trying and liking new things. I see that she wants to grow and learn new things.
You see, SG does not yet want to stand on her own two capable feet. She is like a hatchling wanting to live in the nest as long as possible. And I am the momma bird, gently but firmly pushing this not-a-baby-anymore bird out of the nest and hoping she flies. Whether she does is up to her.
And that’s very hard to watch.
Fingers crossed everybody. Fingers crossed she flies.
Oh! I hear you. My 10-year old and 14-year old sons are both gone for two weeks visiting their older brothers this summer. It’s the first time they’ve both made the trip. It’s always fun for them, and the bonding they get with their older brothers who live 8 hours away from us is priceless. But I miss them. I am loving the quiet in the house – and the dinners where my husband and I actually get to have long, wide-ranging conversations without having to stop bickering at the table. It’s lovely. But I miss them!
Hang in there!
It’s so lovely to hear from you, Liesl. Do you remember back a few years ago (2015 maybe?) when we talked about reading parenting books and how different reality is from what we know in theory? You said you read it all and like it but in the heat of the moment you get crazy and don’t remember any of it. This feels like that!