Church Camp Grief.





I'm at church camp this week. The internet connection is awful and I'm not sure if this will even post, but here goes.

I met Dan at church camp. Not this one, but a different one. I was sixteen, Dan was seventeen. I remember exactly what I was doing the first time I saw him. I was sitting on top of a picnic table by the lake talking to people. I looked up, and saw Dan walking toward us, going over a tiny hill. I thought he was cute. He came over to our group, stood around and talked to us for a moment, and then we all dispersed to go to some activity. 

Dan always said,

"It wasn't love at first sight, but sometime between the first time I saw her and the very next breath, I  fell in love."

That night at campfire everyone brought their blankets with them. I didn't have a blanket, so Dan offered me his because I was cold. Then he let me take his blanket back to my cabin with me. I have had that blanket ever since. It's on me right now, as I type this. 

We spent all our free time that week together getting to know each other. It turned out we went to the same youth group, at the same high school.  I know what you're thinking: how could we not know that? Well, at the time, our youth group averaged about ninety people a week, and I had only recently started going. Our high school had 400 people in it, and Dan was a year ahead of me, although my sister knew him. 

I think we would have left that camp as a couple, except I had a boyfriend back home. Eventually, I came to my senses and broke up with him, so I could date Dan. I often wish I had done that sooner, but this way Dan and I became good friends before we started dating, which I am sure contributed to the wonderful relationship we had.

Ever since the day I met him, Dan has been by my side in my journey toward God. Continuing on it without him, and Dan opening the next chapter without me, is extremely difficult, but is a story for another time. 

Now I am here at this camp.  I am here with Baby Girl, and it's her first time. Dan has worked at this camp for a long time. I don't remember exactly how long, but for six or seven years, at least. He was a counselor, and then director of the high school camp.They loved him. Last year at camp they had a day to honor him and spread some of his ashes here. Today they showed me that spot.

Dan always said that when Baby Girl was old enough for camp, he would stop working at the high school camp, so he could go with her. He's not here for this experience and I am. He is missing.

Baby Girl is, of course, having a blast at camp. There's no way you can't have a blast at camp. But I think, on top of all that, she might be feeling a little relief. The only kid here that knows that her dad is dead is her best friend. At school, everyone knows. At church, everyone knows. At AWANA, everyone knows. I know Baby Girl wishes she could just be normal, and not have a dead dad. Perhaps she will get a little relief from that here.

I will not. I cannot stop thinking about how Dan should be here. Camp was Dan's thing. He was so good at connecting with high school kids. He helped them see how valuable they are.

We sing songs at campfire that are the same songs I sang exactly twenty years ago, standing next to Dan for the first time. I just realized it's been exactly twenty years since I met Dan. Sometimes it seems like yesterday. We were so young and in love. We were both completely smitten with each other, from the very beginning. Maybe it seems like yesterday because even now, I am still that in love with him. 

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

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