Next month I will be dropping off my youngest to overnight camp. Not just any overnight camp but MY overnight camp. In 1977, at the age of 9 (I just turned 46 if you're trying to do the math), unbeknownst to me, I was dropped off at Camp Tel Noar and embarked on one of the most memorable and life changing chapters of my life. Really? Life changing? A bit of an exaggeration? Not at all. I was 9 and was on my own, so to speak. I was allowed to be independent. I was encouraged to be independent. I was able to be true to who I was. I became confident, more social and made the most wonderful friends. This didn't all happen in one summer of course but it did evolve over time. After 8 weeks, I begged to go back and so I did. For 12 years. What I didnt know at the ripe age of 9 was that I was about to learn all kinds of things that would help me later on in life. I was going to learn to live with a mix of personalities; some unlike myself, and would have to cope and work together. I...
Mom, cancer survivor, and wanna be writer.