I’m going to cry. I’ve already warned them. And I’ve hipped them to the fact that I’m an ugly crier. A really ugly crier.
Jackson’s last day of ARTS Camp is today. I’ve previously written about the opportunity presented to him to attend a local day camp. I had no idea what to expect at the camp itself. And I certainly didn’t know what to expect from Jackson. The camp is held at a large school, one we’ve never been to. Additionally, strangers to our family staff it. There isn’t one common denominator that connects Jackson with this camp.
The first day of camp started as I rather expected. Jackson didn’t want me to leave and everything was overwhelming to him—the number of people, the size of the cafeteria (where sign-in takes place), and certainly the noise level. Jackson was terrified. The camp director took us into an ancillary room to calm Jackson down. Camp counselors—a lively, energetic, passionate and CARING group of kids who attend the high school, immediately surrounded him. It was as if Jackson immediately had a triage unit to acclimate him to the camp experience. I was blown away. I spent two hours with the director, touring the camp, meeting individuals and peeking in on Jackson to make certain he had settled down and settled in. Blessedly he had.
In four short days I have grown to love these folks. And so has Jackson. It’s going to be hard to walk away from this camp and this group of people who have loved on our son from the minute they met him. To say this camp has been a blessing doesn’t begin to convey my thoughts and emotions. But the tears I cry when I pick Jackson up this evening sure will. Note to self: bring tissues. A big box of tissues.