The summer when my marriage ended was a challenge for me. While I was defining my new daily life, I also had to rebuild my support team. Everything I knew to be true turned out to be completely different. Friendships and family dynamics changed and it hurt, it hurt really bad.

One hot August day, I was going about my typical day in a whirlwind of chaos, juggling two babies, with very little sleep. At the same time my fax machine was making those squealing sounds from the other room sending me notes from my lawyer, crazy legal speak of what was happening next, as this was all part of my new normal.

My mom and dad appeared, unexpectedly, at my house. My mom said “you look like a sad abused puppy waiting for your master to take a rolled up newspaper and smack you with it.” I looked up with tears rolling down my face and realized I couldn’t argue with her. She said “let’s get you out of here, let us help you figure things out.”

My 9 year old was supposed to go to his first summer camp for two weeks. I was trying to pack for him. It felt like I was moving through quicksand. We grabbed the few things I had bought and loaded up the car to Florence. Normally I loved being organized and was looking forward to packing him up with things to remind him of home along with some treats. Instead I was so full of anxiety and was unable to manage a simple packing list.

My son had never spent the night away from home except at his grandparents. He was excited about the idea of camp but I could tell he was starting to get nervous. This seemed like a good idea 9 months earlier when the dynamics of our family, and friends were very different.

At this point we had worked so hard to save up to pay for this really expensive summer camp. We had also been on a hard “sell” that this camp was going to be so much fun and explained to my son that he didn’t need to worry because “your dad is going with you”. This was a special first timer camp, which allowed the dads to join for the second week. They designed it so the kids would have something to look forward to rather than get homesick if it had been reversed.

Things were so rocky between his dad and I, we were hardly communicating. I really wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I decided to assume everything we planned was going to work out. I never said this out loud but deep down I really, really, REALLY wanted to cancel.

When we arrived at my parents house, we focused on getting organized for camp. Dad was like a whirlwind shopping at Walmart getting all our camp supplies. He kept the discussion of camp as being a fun idea. I organized, labeled and helped put together the trunk.

We decided it would be easier to drive up the night before we had camp check in. My Mom stayed behind with the two babies, along with babysitters. It was an extreme amount of work juggling them. One was 3 months and the other almost 2. I was so grateful that my mom allowed me to focus on my two older boys.

The four of us stayed in Hendersonville, near the camp. We were told that if we wanted to ensure my son would bunk near his friend, we needed to be there as soon as the gates open! Not willing to take a chance, we got up super early, and lined in traffic leading to the front gate of the camp. Once the gates opened, the check in process could officially begin. The only part of our plan that I couldn’t control was when the other boy would show up.

We moved my son in his cabin. I made his bed, put his trunk up, helped put his things away showing him where to find his stuff! I had a stack of self addressed stamped envelopes with a note pad ready to write home. I noticed he was pacing back and forth looking for his friend and hoping he would pick the bunk next to him. Dad & I took turns looking for the counselors asking them to save that bunk, but rules were rules, they said no.

As we waited for the other boy to show up, my 6 year old son was running around the entire camp saying “I wanna go too, can I stay?” This repeat performance went on for two to three hours. He was swinging on the fence, grinning from ear to ear and acting completely opposite from his older brother. He also kept hiding in hopes that we would leave him behind. At times I felt like I was herding cats.

Finally over two hours passed and his friend finally arrived! He was able to find a bunk close enough to my son. I had a big sigh of relief, hugged him with our final goodbyes and left.

Once I got home, I called the camp to learn more about the option for my younger son. They had added a special week for younger siblings that could stay with the dads. This was perfect, he would just go to camp next week with his dad, so I signed him up!

Round two, I had to get all the same supplies, only this time I had the routine down pat. We labeled everything and my younger son was literally bouncing off the walls. It was like deja vous when the two of us drove up the next week. This time the check in was different since it was just the dads and a few younger campers. I desperately wanted to check in on my older son, but they discouraged it. Their dad met me in the parking lot. My 6 year old wrapped his arms around his dad. Then he jumped down to help take his trunk to their cabin. They assured me everyone was fine and sent me on my way. I drove off, with tears rolling down my face.

While they were all in camp for this second week, I returned back home with the babies. The plan was for the boys to drive back with their dad Saturday morning after their ceremony when the campers would receive a wooden boat paddle that all the counselors and kids signed as a keep sake.

Friday night, my back door blew open, all of a sudden the boys showed up with two trunks and tons of dirty clothes. The written letters all stuck to the self addressed stamped envelopes. (Never made it to the mailbox). Pillows, sheets, blankets, wet towels dumped on the playroom floor. The boys were very upset they were home a day early. As they were crying they told me they were they didn’t get their wooden boat paddles and they didn’t say bye to their friends.

I spent the next couple days washing everything, soaking the boys in the tub and tried to make them feel better. That night I let the boys sleep in my big bed. I decided it would be a good time for them to feel the unconditional love of a family pet. The next morning we went to the humane society and picked out a kitten. They named him Speedy Gonzalez, after the cartoon character because he had to run fast from the babies.

I called the camp to see if they would send the paddles to us. They arrived with out signatures. It wasn’t the same.

One night we were all snuggled in my big bed with Speedy, the boys told me about an incident at camp: One of the nights they had an overnight camp out with tents in the mountains. My older son was with his group and his counselors, but my younger son was with the group of dads. The problem was his dad didn’t go on the camping trip.

After they had set up camp, it became dark and suddenly there was a terrible thunderstorm with strong wind and lightening. The counselors decided to break camp and return back to the cabins. It was chaotic as they were packing everyone up and loading in the buses. My younger son got scared and was running through the woods looking for his older brother. He was scared and worried that he was going to be left in the woods alone. At some point a counselor loaded him on the bus and he ended up back at camp.

Thinking about my younger son feeling lost and scared still makes me so sad. It reminds me how out of control and lost my life was then and how I would have done anything to step in to keep this from happening. I had no idea and no control.

As I am visiting Hendersonville today, I am triggered by familiar buildings and remembering my son lost in the woods. It also reminds me how far we have come as a family. Not only did I rebuild a strong support system with my loving husband and our family of 8 but along the way we also were able to create happy memories of summer camp for the kids. We found Camp Coker for Boy Scouts, Asbury Hills where all the kids attended with their friends, a cousin, a sibling or two. We also found a family camp in Maine where we experienced camp as a family. These experiences have created a lifetime of happy memories that we cherish.

I am so thankful that we no longer feel lost, or scared of camp. I am able to enjoy Hendersonville and use these memories to remind myself of how far we have come after such a difficult journey.