Camp Drop-off
"Are you excited?" I asked the twins as we pulled up to camp. The incoming fifth graders would be spending two and a half days at a local YMCA camp.
"Yes!" Both girls piped up from the back seat. I glanced at them in the rear view mirror. For a moment, I saw the two as they were when they were much younger, poking each other in the ribs and rubbing their eyes with closed fists. Then, my vision cleared. The identical hazel eyes swam with joy, and broad smiles spread across the twins' faces.
As I put the car in park, the girls quickly unbuckled themselves. They opened the door, ran around to meet me at the rear of the car, and started to grab their bags.
"I don't need any help, Mom," one of the girls said. The other followed suit. Maybe they did not need help, but I wanted to help. I wanted to extend the time it took to drop off my precious girls because this was the first time we'd been away from each other for so long. I know, it won't even be that long, but 2 nights away seemed like a lot at the time.
I did not dawdle. I signed the registration sheet as the girls wandered to the dormitory. The girls found their friends, made their beds, and gave me big hugs. "Tell Daddy that we love him," they called as they waved, blew kisses, and walked away. I loaded Melina and Aaron into the car and left. No tears, no problem.
Until Aaron reminded me that when the girls go to college, it will be just the two of them at home with Mommy and Daddy. And then, when he goes away, only Melina will be left.
"I can have all the peace and quiet I want then, huh?" I asked the two quiet passengers in the back.
"Yep!" came their reply.
And there, on the road, not too far from the entrance to camp, I wanted to turn the car around. I felt an overwhelming emotion take me over. Not because I'd miss the girls. It was, after all, only two days. I could get through two days without seeing them. But I wanted to feel their little cheeks between my hands as I bent to kiss their forehead; I craved one last bear hug from tiny arms; I longed to say I love you one more time, and take them by the hand and not let them go.
I've said it before, but I need to say it again: I never knew that growing up could be so difficult.
"Yes!" Both girls piped up from the back seat. I glanced at them in the rear view mirror. For a moment, I saw the two as they were when they were much younger, poking each other in the ribs and rubbing their eyes with closed fists. Then, my vision cleared. The identical hazel eyes swam with joy, and broad smiles spread across the twins' faces.
As I put the car in park, the girls quickly unbuckled themselves. They opened the door, ran around to meet me at the rear of the car, and started to grab their bags.
"I don't need any help, Mom," one of the girls said. The other followed suit. Maybe they did not need help, but I wanted to help. I wanted to extend the time it took to drop off my precious girls because this was the first time we'd been away from each other for so long. I know, it won't even be that long, but 2 nights away seemed like a lot at the time.
I did not dawdle. I signed the registration sheet as the girls wandered to the dormitory. The girls found their friends, made their beds, and gave me big hugs. "Tell Daddy that we love him," they called as they waved, blew kisses, and walked away. I loaded Melina and Aaron into the car and left. No tears, no problem.
Until Aaron reminded me that when the girls go to college, it will be just the two of them at home with Mommy and Daddy. And then, when he goes away, only Melina will be left.
"I can have all the peace and quiet I want then, huh?" I asked the two quiet passengers in the back.
"Yep!" came their reply.
And there, on the road, not too far from the entrance to camp, I wanted to turn the car around. I felt an overwhelming emotion take me over. Not because I'd miss the girls. It was, after all, only two days. I could get through two days without seeing them. But I wanted to feel their little cheeks between my hands as I bent to kiss their forehead; I craved one last bear hug from tiny arms; I longed to say I love you one more time, and take them by the hand and not let them go.
I've said it before, but I need to say it again: I never knew that growing up could be so difficult.
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