Dimly through a glass

Well hello again, friend! To pick up where my last post left off, I ended up going to the camp event last weekend, after all.  I just have this crazy thing in me that won't let me not do things that I know I'd otherwise want to do, were it not for IF or anxiety etc. I guess it's a good thing, but it's not an easy thing. I also spent some time with other friends and with my family.

Niece and auntie - hope our faces don't freeze like this! 

Chef W, my fabulous nephew - talented and thoughtful! He knows I hate olives!
And he wouldn't let anyone eat any of this til I got there! Ha! 

So I went to camp - and guess what? I'd love to tell you that it was all perfectly perfect and that I never once felt the weight of the lonely, barren outsider as I'd feared I would -  but that would be a lie. It's okay though - it is just part of the story.

When I drove into camp and pulled into my parking spot, someone came up - someone I've known since 1984, who is also on the 60th anniversary planning committee that planned this event. I wasn't even out of my car when he came up to my car and said, "Hey Heather - you're ruining the per car average." I looked at him questioningly and he said, "Everyone else has several people in the car and you have only one - what's with that? You're ruining our per car average."

I'd also like to tell you that I just laughed that off, knowing he wasn't really intending to hurt me or point out what a barren failure of a woman I am, even though that's how it felt as my heart plummeted down to my polka dot flip flops.

Maybe laughing it off would not have been the right thing, anyhow... I don't know. I'm not the only one in the world who would have a single car. I'm so blessed with my R, who was working and couldn't come, but others are single and so very wish they had a spouse and children to bring, themselves...  it was a thoughtless thing to say, though certainly not intended to be cruel. It's the kind of thing that makes people feel really bad - even when they laugh it off.

I told him calmly that this was the very reason I almost didn't go to the event... that I was worried that it was just me one, when the event was so family oriented. I know he didn't get it - I could tell. Later I found out he told the camp associate director that I "bit his head off" for just saying a little joke. The associate director, O, is his cousin and my good, long time friend, so O asked me about it and asked if I'd been serious. I told him that while I had not bit off the guy's head, I was serious - and I explained that my whole heart and soul would have loved nothing more than to have kids and introduce them to camp. To have them meet the place and the people I've so long treasured. To experience the fun and the joy, to learn and to grow...  and that I almost didn't come because it's so hard to not have that - especially at an event that was so celebrating the families and the generations of camp. He didn't say much, but I know him and I know he got it. He incorporates these things. He's like R that way - few words, but very thoughtful.

When I read the blog post about the event a few days ago, I noticed that they thanked all the "families and individuals" who came to camp that day to celebrate. I'm not totally sure, but I'm pretty sure that "and individuals" would not have been there were it not for my conversation with O.

Words are such a funny thing. They can build up and they can tear down - and we say them all the time. They're almost as common as breathing. We all make mistakes and are clumsy sometimes - grace is so important when we are the recipient of thoughtless or cruel words. As those who say words though, we can't all fret about every thing we say...  we couldn't ever speak from fear, if that were so. Still, this guy's response was to think I was crazy and then go tell someone else that I bit his head off. Not cool. Thankfully the someone else is cool, in this case.

Still, I can't help but feel that saying something was the right thing for me to do - even though he was not open to understanding. That's okay - I can't control that, but I think the lesson is to be open to feedback and to try to understand others, if we stumble into something... and probably to not instead go tell others your head was bitten off.  And to forgive, when we are the recipient - and to not assume the worst of them. We are all sometimes the givers and sometimes the receivers of thoughtless words - it's just part of being a human in community.  I'm glad that maybe something good came of this episode though. It's not easy, you know, being vulnerable so often.

Anyhow, so that was an interesting beginning to it, but I'm glad I went. Camp gives me a continued opportunity to feed into the lives of children, even if from afar through prayer and support. I'm so grateful for that, no matter how I long for it to be more.

I posted a bit about that on Facebook - my last comment, I mean, not the details of the car side remark - and about my observations of the day. Afterward, someone privately messaged me and told me that she wants me to know she's sending her little girl (and the girl's best friend is coming too) to camp this summer. To my camp! She said that a very large factor in her decision making was all that I have shared with her personally and through Facebook about camp... She said she knows how much it's meant to me and all that it's given me and she would love that for her daughter. I about fainted with delight! I hope and pray that her daughter and friend will have a wonderful, fun, safe, and blessed time at camp! What a ranch!!

Amen!

 So yeah - all in all, the camp event was good, though exhausting as there were loads of children there and most of my friends had their's along, of course. It was wonderful to catch up a bit and hang out with such dear people!  We rode on the pontoon  - scarily enough, the same pontoon as when I worked there - and it barely ran back then! Ha! Praise God for duct tape! We also sang songs, hung at the beach, chapel, and campfire...  it was nice!

I also really appreciated the friend who'd acknowledged (unprompted in any way by me) that she thought that it might be a tough day for me to be there, and she was glad I'd decided to come.  How nice! We didn't need to discuss it, but it was nice to be acknowledged with just a few simple, kind words.

One last thing, another sweet friend came over in the afternoon with her sweet fella and their sweet newborn. I'd met the fella before, but the newborn is pretty newly born. This friend was the one who had the shower I would have gone to in Milwaukee if I could have, which I posted about a couple times ago. Scheduling issues prevented that, but it was wonderful to be able to actually meet him. It was the first time I've actually held a baby in many years now.

The last time I held a baby, it was because someone put her in my arms without asking, and then started rubbing the baby's arms on my face saying, "See, get that sweet baby juju all over you - that's what you need, Heathie. You need to hold more babies and get their juju on you. You'll get pregnant for sure now." I won't comment further about those comments. but they were memorable to say the least.

Anyhow, so that was the last time holding a little baby - as opposed to my little toddler friend in Utila, who I didn't meet as a little baby. It's generally been too painful to really think about and I don't want people saying things about juju - ever again - so I have mostly tried to avoid newborns to the extent possible. But I'm glad to have spent some time with this little guy. He is very sweet and snugly and it was good! It was a blessing to hold him for a while and spend time with my friends, his parents. My friend is so grateful and happy for her miracle blessing - and tired. And I am grateful and happy with her - and tired.

Thanks, E - love you!!

Yes - it's true - I am beyond blessed. I'm blessed far more than I could ever even pretend to deserve. Though it is all part of my story and all can be used for good, I do pray that my gratitude would always outshine my grief. It is so hard and so strange to completely and intensely miss what you've never had - those little hands you've never held, those hugs you'll never know... the hopes and the dreams that are not meant to be. I wonder if they'd have loved camp, as I do. It would have been okay if they didn't - as long as they were happy, I wouldn't have minded. Ohh dear - I love our children that only might have been - so very much.

Hmm. Wonder if I need some strong meds.....

For now we see through a glass, dimly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
(1 Corinthians 13:12)

♡ HJ