Hello Muddah, Redux

Tomorrow is homecoming day, the day anticipated with both delight and dread by campers and parents alike. As always, I will get to the bus stop early, barely able to carry on a coherent conversation with other parents as I crane my neck, feeling the emotion percolating and the tears forming as I imagine the moment the buses will pull in.

And I know my daughter will be craning her neck by the bus window as well, trying to spot me in the crowd and flash me her beautiful smile and offer up a big wave. For a few moments, neither one of us will be thinking about the down side; for her, the end of a carefree summer, for me, the beginning of daunting piles of laundry. I still cringe when I think of my utter failure in that department last year, when I dyed her favorite white bikini top purple and the bottom green. (Yes, I separated the laundry, but maybe not quite as methodically as I should have.)

More than ever, though, I am looking forward to my youngest daughter's return this year. She is my loyal housemate, my steadfast companion, the person who supplies structure and meaning to my occasionally unstructured and meaningless days. Together, we have made it through a year of unique challenges. Her laughter, her uncanny ability to know when I just need to have her nearby, those are the things that have helped me along. I'm not really sure what I've done for her on my end, but she seems as content with our arrangement as I am.

This summer will have been her last one as a camper. Her excited phone call the other night informing me that she had been awarded the much coveted honor of "color days" captain was enough to pull me out of the significant funk I had gotten myself into after a long day of airport delays and way to much time to contemplate my woes. Though it's still hard for me to accept that my baby is somehow old enough and experienced enough to lead half the camp in its most significant competitive event, I suspended disbelief and was so thrilled for her I was able to enjoy a full night of drug free sleep.

No matter how hard I try -- even if I remember to wash whites and colors separately -- I know I won't be able to make the transition any less rocky than it always is. I've been down this road too many times to have any illusions. I'll give it a day or two, and I'm pretty certain things between us will be back to normal -- such as it is.