Saturday, August 8, 2015

Missing Camp

My spouse is waking up to a very different vista:

He's not too far from the farms where your Christmas tree likely was born.

Why am I not there?  I could be spending this afternoon reading on this porch:

Well, my life is different than it was 3 years ago when we first went to Lutherock, a Lutheran church camp near Grandfather Mountain, for my spouse's Board meeting.  I have grades for my online classes due on Monday, which means I have grading to do this week-end.  Lutherock is isolated enough in the mountains of North Carolina that I can't count on getting any kind of Internet connection there.

Of course, I could have made that work if I wanted to--but if I went, we'd have gone by car, and it's a very long drive, with the last 5 hours through small towns and up twisty roads.  It was easier to buy my spouse an airline ticket and send him on his way.

Still, I feel those mountains tug at me.  I'm missing camp.

I'm missing camp, even as most camps are bringing their summer seasons to an end.  I'm missing my friends that I see on retreats and at my spouse's periodic meetings.  I'm missing the different vistas, the chance to hike, the breath of fresh air.

Today, instead of the mountains, this vista will be mine:

I'm having a picnic with some friends from church who teach in the public schools.  Their summer comes to an end soon, and we want to have one last pool day.  I'm happy to provide the pool, and we'll have a picnic lunch.

And then I'll do some more grading until it's time to pick my spouse up from the airport.  Maybe I'll write a poem this afternoon.

It's not camp, but it will be restorative in a different way.  For that, I am grateful.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Why can't you say husband? or are you 'married' to a woman?