After pulling over for about 10 min. due to heavy rain and hail, we were back on the road! We finally pulled in to camp around 9:30 p.m. It was great to see the familiar wooden sign welcoming me back home. You see, this place has been my summer home for the past six years. Four out of those six, I was there all summer. I guess you could say I spent a large percentage of my teenage and maturing years at this place. The familiar smell of the lake, the booming voice of our director, and the stinging sensation of a mosquito sent my senses into overdrive. I was back... but something was different. It was the same place, and the same people (not to mention the same great food), and yet I didn't feel that familiar sense of belonging. Camp had opened its arms to me, just as it always had done. Only this time, I knew that I was a mere spectator, and not a conductor. It wasn't my place to make decisions, plan activities or be on the inside track. I was supposed to enjoy camp as I had never been allowed to enjoy it before.
This past weekend, whenever something would come up, a good buddy of mine would somewhat jokingly remind me, "It's not my problem." This is going to be a hard lesson for me to learn. Whenever something was going on, I was there trying to get my abnormally large nose involved in some way. But now, somebody else was responsible, some other team was in charge. It wasn't my team, but I think after seeing them at work, it'll be ok. I think I'm finally starting to be ok with "a changing of the guard."
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