There’s an elongated moment in time when that camp bus pulls out of the parking lot whisking away our son with developmental disabilities and his wonderful aide for almost a month of sleep-away camp at Camp Ramah, California. I feel giddy and excited, thinking about the time ahead without the usual daily obligations and complex logistics, and take comfort in knowing that he’s going to have a wonderful time with fellow campers, counselors and staff, enjoying his favorite camp activities of singing, dancing and swimming. I eagerly look forward to catching a play, staying out late without rushing home to relieve the babysitter, and doing much less laundry.
But, while I’m enjoying my time off with other family members and friends, there’s a little constant buzz in the back of my brain, feeling like I have lost an essential item. I keep thinking that I’ve left my keys behind when they are in their usual spot at the bottom of my purse. My dreams have me driving around aimlessly, unable to ever exit the complicated freeway system (okay, maybe a bit of déjà vu here in LA).
Without the usual rhythms of our son’s daily schedule, speech therapy sessions, medications, bedtime rituals, etc I feel somehow out of sync myself. Over the years, I have found it easier to make this adjustment when we are away on vacation, out of town in a totally new milieu. But as schedules turned out this year, we are all going to Israel together in July for the wedding of a very close friend, so I’m mostly at home, working as a nonprofit consultant during the day and running around at night.
The “Calm” meditation app I try to use on a daily basis tells me to “let your feelings float away, like clouds in the sky” so I’m doing my best to acknowledge that nagging sensation of forgetting something important, and then letting it go by by taking deep, three-part breaths. And then I remember that camp ends on July 13th, so I better not get too used to this.
