guys. ugh.

 

my eyes feel like someone poured a mixture of glue and acid into them.  

 so many tears. 

i drove fiona to summer camp yesterday. why is it so hard to let them grow up?!

i knew i would crumble as soon as i got in the car to drive the 3 and a half hours back home. and i did. i cried so hard i almost puked. 

she was nervous and shy and weird (because like her mother the more uncomfortable she is the weirder she gets) but she never chickened out and she never showed how really scared she was to be at a camp where she knew nobody for an entire week. i knew it though and i was so damn proud of her that i could hardly contain myself. i sucked back puke sobs for about 40 minutes until i was in my car and about 1 mile out of sight. 

 

 

i don't think i have ever wanted anything more for fiona so far in life than to have her go to a really awesome sleep away camp.  it was a real turning point for me when i went. 

i was 9 years old and i was terrified. but after those first few days something changed. i felt something different. i was just me, only me. no parents or siblings to define anything about me. i could be whoever i wanted to be. i could tell people i was from asia if i wanted to. i could tell people i had come to this earth via a spaceship if i wanted to. i couldn't have explained to you these things back then but what this all was was a sense of identity. i discovered my essential self. plus pure, blissful autonomy. 

beyond that i learned how to cope. i learned that i liked freedom and that i could do all the things on my own. i felt secure in my own capabilities. i learned resilience. 

i couldn't have told fiona any of this and i imagine doing so might have ruined that discovery for her. 

the truth is the best moments of childhood, the ones that stick with you, are the ones when your parents aren't there. the moments you experience purely for yourself. 

so i cry because i'll miss her yes, but also because i remember. i remember me at that moment that i was really on my own and how insecure i felt and i was crying for her as much as anything.  

but through the tears i am excited and hopeful. 

there are no communications with the kids other than snail mail and a facebook page/blog where someone posts pictures of the day. i have already checked both about 30 times for a glimpse of my girl's long, shiny hair and gangly arms. nothing yet. but as i said, i am hopeful.