not-so-final recap or are you glad you did it?

Last week was my last week at camp, and I departed during what I considered one of the best weeks at camp with one of the most heartfelt goodbyes from my kids and co-workers that I honestly didn't expect. I've returned to Texas for a week while I'm unemployed and homeless, and I've been saturated with two main greetings:

1) I'm SOOO glad you're out of there!

and

2) So, are you glad you did it?

In response to #1, I have to say that I am also glad to be out of there. For the last year, I've been living in conditions that are by no means normal or desirable. I will no longer have to wake up and immediately start working. I will no longer have to discreetly do my morning routine so as not to wake my moody teenage boys too early and sacrifice the special moments of alone time. I can now wear pajamas to bed (not to mention SLEEP in a real bed) instead of cargo pants. I can use electricity at any time for any purpose. I don't have to worry about misplacing my lighter or headlamp and fear of enabling my kids to run away or get high on the mud trail. I never have to hear the words, "what cha want for that snack?" followed by an increased heart rate worrying about whether or not there is gang activity or sexual underground going along with that seemingly innocent trade of graham crackers for stamps. I will never have to check a smelly bathroom again, so that a perfectly capable teenager can go inside without finding poop on the walls or a gang message. I don't have to buy or distribute anymore gimp, though I will miss the colorful lanyards my kids would make me when they were bored. I don't have to tuck twelve teenagers in at night anymore or listen to them talk dirty about me and other counselors once I've left the tent (though I will miss the quality conversations that happened before I left). I won't smell of kerosene in the winters, and in the summers, I need not wear long sleeves to avoid the yellow flies.

In response to #2, I think most people are expecting me to regret my decision to leave everything and head for the woods of North Carolina. A small part of me wants to rewind to a year ago when I decided to leave, and smack me in the face for ever considering leaving such a great job, a close family, amazing friends, and the greatest state in the union. A larger part of me wouldn't trade this year for anything for a number of reasons:

1) Through this blog and my crazy facebook updates, I've received more random messages, comments, and notes from family, close friends, long-lost friends, and even strangers sharing their stories of inspiration and hope in relation to my own. They've been encouraging, supportive, and even miraculous tales, and I wish I knew how to put this whole experience that I've shared with my readers into a box and treasure it always.

2) I've met some of the most courageous people I would otherwise have never met. The Chiefs of Camp E-Tik-Etu, the ones that stay one day, the ones that stay ten years, the ones that push through, the ones that care immensely for those kids, are my heroes, my friends. They are the only ones who could ever understand what I've been through in the last year, no matter how hard I try to explain it to others. I admire them and because of them, I've learned how to admire myself. Chiefs fight the battle day after day, waking up as if yesterday never happened, and fighting for the lives of kids who don't even know what to fight for.

3) I've fallen in love with a man who would do anything for me, who listened and supported me during the hardest job I've ever done, and never complained once that I had a chaotic schedule and couldn't be there with him at the drop of a hat. He made my time away from the woods an adventure, and I'm excited that he will be there for the next adventure too. I wish that you all could know him.

4) I've lived among beauty. I've seen the phases of the moon, the changing constellations each season. I've survived monsoons and floods, snow storms and icy trails. I've been among the foxes and the bears, and I've seen more sunrises this year than my entire life combined. I've lived outdoors, and nothing can rival that, not even four solid walls of comfort.

5) I've learned more about what I want to do, who I want to work for, what I need in a job, what I can tolerate, and what I can't. I've become more patient, more honest, and tougher than ever. More than anything though, I've learned what it means to love unconditionally, and that alone is an amazing gift.

6) I've worked with the most resilient and brave humans on the planet: my boys. I will miss them the most. I missed them the moment I walked out of chuckwagon. I missed them the moment I realized that no matter if I stay or go, I won't know how they do after they leave camp. My heart breaks knowing that some of those boys will return to the same lifestyle that brought them to camp. Some of them will end up in jail for life, and some of them will hurt many people along the way. Some of them hurt me.

My heart rejoices knowing that some of them will go on to be productive members of society, and my heart rejoices knowing that all of them know that I loved them. I wish they could know that they are my heroes, too, because just like their chiefs, they wake up everyday and make it. It may not look pretty, but they do it, they fight the elements and get through the day, and that alone makes them successful.

I am glad to leave; I am glad I did it; I am sad to leave; I am sad that our world is such a place where camps like this are necessary.

This fight is not over for me...it's just moving out of the woods and closer to the water.