2012-08-07
Dear Aaron,
Tonight is your first night at
your first over-night summer camp. I know I pushed you to this
experience, but I still cannot help worrying if you are crying yourself
to sleep. It is so difficult being a parent. On one hand, I want you
to stay small and within my eyesight, yet, I need to push you to expand
your comfort zone and explore the world. I am constantly trying to find
a balance between the two forces.
Last night, you cried
yourself to sleep, unwilling to go. You’ve known about this camp for a
while to be mentally prepared. And you were still happy as of 8pm when
we were packing together. But as we lied in bed at 9pm, you started
saying that you really don’t want to go. A part of me was angry at you
for not appreciating the relatively large sum of money that we paid for
the camp, yet a part of me was wondering if I’m pushing you toward
something that you are not ready for. At the end, I decided that I
wouldn’t force you to go if you really don’t want to, though I’m not
sure if my tone of voice and body language still betrayed the part of me
that was angry. As I watched you finally fell asleep, I prayed that
our Lord may give you the courage to undertake this challenge.
In
the morning, you woke up still unwilling to go. You knew I wanted you
to go and you asked me for me opinion. I told you to decide. Yes, it’s
a lot of money going to waste if you decide not to go, but perhaps it’s
money worth spending to wait for you to be truly ready. I told you
that even if you do not want to attend the camp, we still need to go
tell the teachers that you are not going… so, the option of going would
still open to you until the last minute when the bus drives away. You
saw through me, though.
On our drive over, you were
characteristically quiet when you are nervous. You felt sick with the
butterfly in your stomach. You felt the presence of the monster that
grows from within your stomach to consume you whole before you get on
stage or go into a competition. I told you that I, too, am nervous; you
did not respond. At one red light, I looked back and you smiled at me.
Your smile was so genuine that it soothed my worry… well, at least cut
it by half. Then, I knew in my heart that you are ready and that you
will be okay. Thank you, my baby, for reassuring me when I most needed.
It was a rush sending you away because you are the last one to
arrive! We did not have anytime to bid a touchy feely farewell, which
was probably a good thing. Anakin wanted to go with you when he saw you
left. Then, as the night fell, he asked again for you, expecting you
to be home from “school.” Surprisingly, though, he did remember you
telling him that you wouldn’t be home tonight (or tomorrow night) when I
reminded him.
I cannot control my motherly worry, but seeing
your smile in the camp photo, I believe you are enjoying your time. My
baby, I can’t wait for your return to tell me all about the camp.
First day at Camp Taiwan Mini Camp
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