Life Filed in a Drawer

Saturday, July 17, 2010 I filled out my last summer camp medical form. My youngest child is leaving in a few weeks for her last summer as a camper. I cried hot tears as I filled out the forms, made copies of her insurance cards and shot records, and slowly gathered the materials that would allow her entrance into the gates of summer paradise she loves so much. You probably think I'm crazy, why would anyone get weepy over not having to fill out medical forms and dig out shot records? It's not the paperwork I will miss, because if you know me, you know that is not my gift. I'm sad because it's the end of an era.

When I was young, I worked as a camp counselor at a summer camp for several years. Indeed, it was one of the highlights of my youth. I absolutely loved the fact that I would get paid (very little) to go canoeing, horseback riding, sing around campfires, watch shooting stars, and tell stories of great interest to young girls away from home for the very first time. My job today is much like that summer camp job; I teach geology to young people - many of whom are living away from home for the first time - and help them find their way around campus, learn how to navigate the social hierarchy of college, and tell them glorious stories of geological wonder. (That's how it seems in my mind, they may have a different version!) I get paid to do something I love, share my passion about the Earth and its processes, go camping on field trips and get to meet many great young people along the way. Sounds almost like summer camp to me!

One of the things I always wanted to give my children was the summer camp experience. I loved it so much and I am very thankful that my children were able to attend summer camp. Children learn all sorts of things at summer camp that they would not learn during the school year and generally it is done in a very positive, safe, fun environment. Those lessons and the friends you make can be life long and incredibly valuable. As you can probably tell, I'm a big fan. Each of my children went to camp for several years, and my youngest will celebrate her 9th year as a camper. She loves it, has many friends from camp that she keeps up with during the year, and is so excited to go.

So today, as I was filling out the forms, I went to my desk drawer to pull out her shot record and I was struck by the nine folders hanging there waiting for me. Three folders of shot records; three folders of report cards; three folders of test results, awards, commendations and other school paraphernalia; three folders for each child, two of whom are children no longer and one almost grown. In a few years, no one will care about any of that except me. These folders give a very brief glimpse into their lives; they were immunized, they attended school, they made decent grades (most of the time), they won a few awards and scored acceptable test scores on some standardized tests. Many years from now, someone will open that drawer and wonder why I kept all of that for so long. They will wonder why I never threw away all the little awards from various schools and organizations.

It's because sometimes, I like to pull it all out and remember. Remember funny band aids from the doctor's office covering injection sites, kisses and hugs to lessen the sting, grateful eyes as we left the office. I like to remember Dairy Queen after the first day of school, great fanfare as report cards were produced, serious deliberations over possible conduct infractions. Proud smiles on a school cafeteria stage, silly pictures with friends and the wonder that lit their face as their names were called. The energy as they bounded to the stage to claim their prize. I remember it all.

Of course none of those things are in the folders, they contain only the written record of past accomplishments and milestones. Those papers are just the triggers for the memories that follow. The memories that are written on my heart, the memories that will remain for years after these tear-stained pages have faded and torn. One day, when my children clean out this drawer, they will wonder why I kept it all. I hope they remember.