One Giant Leap

I cried when he left and cried when he got home. I’m not ashamed. That’s what any mom does when her child makes a big step in life.

It wasn’t entirely without incident, but we’re calling Caleb’s Camp Auburn experience a success. It’s a big step for any fifth grader to leave his family for four days, but for Caleb it’s more like one giant leap. Can you tell I’ve been thinking about the famous Neil Armstrong quote? I’m not trying to say that Fifth Grade Camp is like walking on the moon, but for us, this accomplishment is a pretty big deal.

Caleb really didn’t want to go to camp. New situations are always challenging for him so we weren’t surprised by his anxiety. He knew his teacher would accompany his class and he’d get to choose a cabin buddy, but being 45 minutes away from home without any other members of his family was very unsettling. There would be new rules, new people and unfamiliar surroundings. He’d be thrown into a social fire with very few comfort zones to protect him.

We decided for him that this was an opportunity he needed to experience. I also had selfish desires; I wanted affirmation of my belief that Caleb is capable of being successful in anything that is expected of other children his age.

Once he found out that he was going to be in cabin #5—his lucky number—he started to exhibit the most subtle signs of excitement. Or, at least his statements of displeasure began to seem much less adamant. The closer we got to departure, the more he accepted that he would be going.
We assembled packages for camp mail that would be distributed to him daily and carefully packed this bedding and clothes. I gave him a thorough tutorial of his luggage, explaining that all dirty and/or wet clothes should be placed in one of two garbage bags I’d labeled for him. When I asked him what he should do with the dirty clothes bag when it came time to pack up he said, “Throw them in the garbage?” Oh dear. No wonder I cried tears of worry as I waved good-bye Tuesday morning.


Wednesday morning Jon got a call. I was subbing at the school (that’s another story) so I didn’t get to speak with Caleb or the teacher but as I understand it, my boy was sobbing, begging to come home. The details of the breakdown remain a bit sketchy but it had something to do with having trouble sitting at the breakfast table. His counselor had him talk to his teacher and I’m guessing the worry of feeling like he was in trouble was enough to send his anxiety over the top. His teacher is known to overreact which certainly doesn’t help in tense situations. But, the happy ending of this story is that he pulled himself together and went on with his day. I spoke with the principal, who was going to camp that evening, and asked him to check up on Caleb. I also had a teacher that was planning a camp visit serve as my spy. Both the principal and teacher later delivered reports that Caleb seemed just fine.

I couldn’t wait for him to get home. His return would mean I could worry a whole lot less, but it would also mean that the void in my heart and home would be filled. That may sound overly dramatic but his absence was deeply felt.

This afternoon, a crowd of anxious parents gathered in front of the school to wait for the school busses to arrive. Some even held “welcome home” signs. Before the first bus could pull into the parking lot, the crowd pressed closer to the curb, unable to contain their excitement to have their children back. Caleb came off the bus and into my arms. I couldn’t hold him tight enough. I was relieved to have my baby home and overjoyed that we could call this a success. He made it the whole week away from home.

There was so much I wanted to ask, but I’ve tried to spread my questions out. We’ve heard about the bruised pinky, headache and stomachache—each resulting in trips to the nurse, and saw his autograph book in which he refused all signatures. But we’ve also heard about the skit, kickball, pickleball, canoes and other recreation. He also shared that he really liked his counselor.
Going away to camp is a big deal for any 10 year old, but for our dear boy who battles social-skill challenges every day of his life, this is a magnificent achievement. He proved he can do it. He can overcome obstacles in his path.

And every misstep on his path can be made up for with giant leaps like this.