IYKYK
By Kim Miles
I really should know better. It happens every year. It shouldn’t catch me by surprise after all this time and yet, somehow, it still creates a lump in my throat, a pit in my stomach, and a little bit of a hole in my heart.
Dreaded summer camp drop-off day.
Oh, wait…do you think I’m describing the feeling I have when I drop my kids off at summer camp? No, no, no … I’m describing the feeling I get when I see all of my friends on social media dropping off their kids at summer camp. Allow me to explain…
*Big sigh.* You see, I don’t have children. (more on that later.) I have 6 beautiful nieces whom I love to spoil. In addition, I truly feel as if all of my friends’ kids are like my kids. You will often see me at their soccer games, theater productions, graduations, you name it. I love to support all the little babies whom I’ve had the privilege of watching grow up right before my very eyes. I love to celebrate their successes, and I like to think that I’m here for them as a shoulder to lean on when things aren’t always so celebratory. My best friend once said to me, “Kim, kids will never get all that they need just from their parents, that’s why you play such a special role in their lives. Never forget that.” And I never have.
So what’s the big deal about summer camp drop-off? Why is this so different from other milestones like the first day of school or high school graduation or college drop-off day? It’s hard to describe but there is something incredibly visceral about seeing the next generation of campers being dropped off by their parents at my childhood summer home. These parents are the same “kids” who were my bunkmates summer after summer and now they’re dropping off their children to embark on the very same adventures that we, as kids, enjoyed every year.
When I see these pictures, I’m literally transported to that spot right in front of the bunkhouse where I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and hug my friends, unpack my stuff, and usher my parents off to leave me at my most favorite place in the whole wide world. Camp was the best. If you had the privilege of going away to summer camp, you know the freedom that I’m describing—that special bubble that embraces you for 8 glorious weeks of a single season. It’s 8 weeks of silliness and singing; double dares and dances; sports and sailing; campfires and color war. It’s where first kisses and crushes take shape. Sometimes it’s even the backdrop to your very first heartbreak. And if you had a summer birthday that took place at camp like I did? Bonus! There’s nothing like a camp birthday celebration. It takes the cake. No matter the memory, you look back on those days with such nostalgia and you can close your eyes and feel all the feels all over again. When a song comes on the radio from those summers, you smile because you remember where you were and with whom, and you just know that when those friends hear that same song, they’re smiling, too.
Kim is on Instagram @kimmilesinheels Visit MilesInHeels.com.
