Loss

I've been working on writing a letter to everyone I was on staff with in 2003--my first summer as a counselor. In a month and a half or so, we have a 5k coming up at camp, and the 5k is done through a foundation set up by the parents of a counselor that was killed in a car wreck during the summer of 2003, which is why I've been working on a letter to that summer's staff. As I've been thinking about what to say in this letter, I've been thinking about that first summer I was on staff.

In some respects, it seems so long ago. When I think back to that time in my life, nothing else stands out with the clarity of that summer. High school is kind of a distant blur of a lot of similar memories--classes, football games, off-campus lunch, and the thrill of finally being able to drive, but the clarity of my memories from that summer of camp still surprises me.

That morning, the staff being instructed to send the campers on to breakfast, while we stayed at chapel. Hearing that there had been an accident. Nights sitting around wondering what would happen. The weekend the hospital was packed with camp staff. The staff meeting where we learned that he was gone. Old counselors and other YMCA staff coming to watch our campers for an afternoon so we could go to the funeral. Riding to the funeral on a YMCA bus in our staff uniforms. The campers who kept asking where he'd gone. Spreading his ashes into the lake.

It was a tough end to summer, and it was tough to keep being a cheerful camp counselor when you've suddenly lost one of your fellow staff members. But when I think back to that summer, I can't think of a place I'd rather be in a tough situation like that. Because we all went through it together, and we all supported each other. We dealt with it in different ways, but I think it was an incredible example of the community that camp is.

A few months later, a similar situation happened at my school. In this case, I didn't really know the guy, but my best friend did, and watching her go through the process of dealing with it, I realized what a blessing that camp community was. Being in a tight-knit community where we were all dealing with the same thing made such a difference. Knowing that we were all hurting, understanding what everyone else was going through, and being able to see each other in those most vulnerable first stages of grief tightened that community and inspired us to do our best at our jobs, because one of us no longer could.