And the house is silent. Too silent. Why do I feel so guilty that she's at camp? Maybe because she didn't want to go. Do I think she's having a good time? Probably. But I can't shake the feeling, or more specifically, the sight of her as her mom and I walked away while she was trying to fit in with the rest of the girls already in the cabin. I'm glad she got the top bunk. She always likes the top bunk best. I'm glad we turned around and went back home to get her hat. She loves her hat. And I'm glad she at least knew someone as we stood in line to check in. I'm worried about her cold. I'm worried that she'll get homesick. I'm worried that she'll be sad until she gets back. But she's stronger than me. She's more secure. She's able to adapt. Her tolerance level is amazing. And after all, it is camp. Hell, I wished I'd have been able to stay. Swimming all day. Stomping around in mud. Canoe riding. Zip lines. Midnight polar swims. Hell, what's not to like. Except being away from home, I guess. I miss you, bean.
No comments:
Post a Comment