Sixth Grade Camp
Ah, the memories of early romance. A week away from the parents, liberating all the young little hearts. I remember my best friend taking long walks in the woods with her boyfriend. So much to giggle about.
There was one boy who had a crush on me. Tom, maybe? He was outside our cabin one afternoon, waiting for me to come out and talk to him. I was far too shy, especially with twenty girls looking on. So, I watched him out the window, as the sun set, and his heart sank into his shoes.
There was a special dinner at the camp a different evening. I was in a panic. Dads were supposed to come. I hadn’t even asked mine. I really didn’t think he’d show. But he did.
I adored my dad. I have very few pictures of him, and the ones I have I can’t seem to find. I pulled out an old high school sketchbook today. I knew this drawing of the camp photo was in there, but still, it took me by surprise:
–With my dad and little brother, drawn in 1986 from a photo taken in 1979.