My mother just informed me that it had been three days since I last posted.
I know when my mom–the woman who would rather not be ushered into the technological realm–points out that my blog needs to be updated, well, then, gosh darn it, it needs to be updated.
(No, mom, I was not actually offended by this comment.
I just thought it was funny.)
Saturday was my last shift at Somerset Beach.
I had originally planned on working through Labor Day.
And sure, the paychecks would have been nice.
But ever since we had our teens spend the week with us for Family Camp, my heart needed to be back home–with those whipper snappers.
Being away from the weekly youth group duties made me realize more and more that my passion lies with those teenagers.
While we did get to have youth group every Sunday, it just wasn’t the same and the weekly commute was not all it was cracked up to be.
My boss understood and agreed to let me go as soon as Kevin was done with youth camps.
So we said our goodbyes,
packed up our teensy car with all of our belongings,
put the cat somewhere among the luggage,
and hit the road.
The poor kitty started crying and freaking out immediately.
He was not happy.
And he was probably a bit demoralized thanks to his litter box being the only space for him to sit.
It worked out alright because he had pooed within 10 minutes.
And five minutes after that he threw up everywhere.
It was so heartbreaking.
And disgusting.
But at least he didn’t poop on me like he did on the trip out to camp.
He quieted down after that.
I stroked his soft little head for the remaining hour in the car.
And he seemed to resign himself to the situation.
It wasn’t until Monday morning–or Sunday night really–that the change seemed real.
I mean, we always head home on Saturdays.
We always did church and youth group.
But when I got to put on my pajamas after youth group,
and wake up at home on Monday morning,
that’s when I realized we were back for good.
It was bittersweet.
Mostly because I’ll miss the people I worked with.
And being close to half of our family.
Monday afternoon I said to Kevin, “I should call Somerset just to talk to Debbie.”
I love that girl.
We had so much in common.
A young marriage.
A cat.
A love for blogging.
A desire to live healthfully.
An identical wardrobe size.
A mom who fought breast cancer.
(Debbie just completed the 60 mile Breast Cancer 3 Day Walk in honor of her mom, Anna.)
An appreciation for quiet evenings home with a book over crazy evenings out with people.
A passion for God.
We had many deep talks, Deborah and I.
We shared secrets,
gave advice,
laughed at hilarious moments,
complained about certain frustrating scenarios,
and enjoyed the silence.
She’s a great friend and I’m going to miss her.
2 thoughts on “The One with the End of Camp”
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dThanks Mel. I really enjoy your blogs. I am actually trying to check the computer daily, but it doesn't always happen. I still say I am technology handicapped. Love you. Mom
You are missed too! It's been real quiet out here this week without you. I keep looking over at your trailer in the morning, thinking I'll see you outside doing devotions, but it's just empty and quiet over there.