Nine Days

We just got home from taking my daughter to camp, which will be her home for the next nine days. This year was the first time the entire family took the ride out there, because drop off has always been on a weekday. The camp is just about the perfect distance from here, about 40 minutes by car. Far enough to be “away” from home, close enough that mama knows she can be there pretty quickly if necessary.

This is her fifth year at summer camp. I should be used to her leaving by now, but still, there's a quiet to the house that's slightly unsettling. Last year was harder, though.

Last summer was my son's first time going to the summer session, and my son and daughter went away together. For nine days. The house was so empty and quiet. For nine days. No bursting through the doors with cries of “I'm hungry” “I'm calling the bestie” or “I have hockey”. No questions being asked, no demands being made, no bickering. It took some adjusting.

Each year before last year, my son would feel a little lost without his big sister. For all of the arguing they do and disagreements they have, they are very close. Though they probably would never admit it, they are true friends, aside from being brother and sister. My daughter comes home in nine days, and two days after that, my son leaves for nine days. This will be the first time my daughter is home while my son is at camp for nine days. I wonder how she will feel about it.

In years previous, I would do things with my son while my daughter was away. We would go downtown, go to a new park, see a movie or something like that, just to help break up the day. I'm hoping that we can still do little things this year. I'd like to try to go downtown, but I am so apprehensive with all the walking required. I just might do it anyway one day, if it's not too hot. He likes to bake, and we usually try a new recipe he's seen that piques his interest. One year we made truffle-filled, deep-fried cupcakes. They were pretty disastrous, but we had a great time.

We've only been home about an hour, and the quiet is already penetrating through the daily noise. Gosh, I miss her, but I want for her to travel, have experiences, and live. I'm sure I'll feel the same when it comes time for my son to go to camp.