Once more, it's opening day at camp. I refuse.
I went up last weekend and found that the mice had been partying. I was going to leave the bedding, but decided it would be better off left in my car all week. Today, Jason is going up there to clean up. At least I hope he is.
Camp still overwhelms me...the place where he died. Am I keeping it because he loved it? Or because I love it? Or because my kids love it?
It is amazing to me, that even after all these months, I still tend to question this.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I am just coming off a fabulous Florida vacation and feel like I just got run over by a moving train. We got back home on Saturday morning. On Sunday morning, my son told me that his friend's dad had died...48 years old...heart attack....at camp. ugh. Like a fist to the stomache. Jason and this friend had grown up together and their dads were a big part of their lives. I watched and listened as his mom told the family there were to be no flowers or crosses at camp. That was his "happy place." I watched and listened as she made lists with her friends on who needed to be called...then watched and listened as she made those calls. Family and friends kept showing up...and still...she kept coming back to me...to talk and to listen. Perhaps she just needed to know that she would be ok. Perhaps she just needed to know that she would be able to smile someday. Was she relieved to see what grief looks like in the 2nd year? Did she see someone who has chosen to move forward in spite of the grief? I told her she'd be ok. I promised.
Posted by Bonnie at 5:58 PM