I took Callum to summer camp this morning.  It’s just day camp.  I will see him at four o’clock.  But I’m going absolutely crazy.  It has only been one hour since I hugged him bye and I am going out of my head.  Silly, I know.  It’s summer camp.  Lots of fun.  I know he is having a great time as I write this.  So why am I so crazy? I didn’t sleep last night.  Worried about every little thing.  There is a lake there.  Will the lifeguard at the pool be watching closely.  Do they realize how much this child means to me?  Do college students with no children have the ability to even comprehend how much this child means to me? When I left him he was excited; hardly even taking the time to hug me and never even looked back.  Great for him.  So hard for me.  Before leaving the property I had to go look at the pool.  I had to lay my eyes on the lake.  I felt the hot sun; did I put on enough sunscreen and will he put more on if he needs it?  I looked at the woods…the bathrooms… They go to the restroom in groups.  He will be fine.  Before driving away I told the universe that my child WILL be safe and that nothing less than a perfect day was acceptable.  For good measure I added a prayer.  And now I try to begin tackling my list of ‘things to get done while Callum is at camp.’

But I sit unreasonably frozen.  And I know why.  Lachlan.  I couldn’t protect him.  I did all of the ‘right things’ with him.  He was breast fed, had regular naps and good night’s sleep, ate veggies and fruit, organic milk, no fake sugar, very minimal food coloring…. I did it all.  Even before he was born I ate right, took care of myself…..Didn’t even take a tylenol if I needed it.  Despite all efforts, he got sick.  I couldn’t keep it from happening and I couldn’t make it better.  For eight months and four days I couldn’t make it better.  I couldn’t protect him.  And so, as the depth of my grief over Lachlan increases daily, so does my anxiety over Callum.

I am trying very hard to be aware of these things so that I don’t smother him.  I know that I can’t be with him every moment.  I know that I have to be reasonable.  I know that he will be fine, probably better, without me by his side.  I have always been perhaps a bit too cautious with my boys.  I would never even entertain the thought of leaving them with a drop-in childcare service.  Simply letting someone else drive them sends me into heart palpitations.  Callum went to the soap box derby a couple of weeks ago, without me, and I couldn’t breathe all day.  And now camp.  Snakes, deep water, strangers, sunburn, mean children… a splinter! Kidding, sort of.  I have a scene playing over in my mind:  I can see myself dressed like Rambo, with camouflage outfit (matching hat, of course) and painted face.  Silent in the woods.  Watching over him….

I wonder if they have therapy day camp for adults?