last summer, i struggled to get my son quinton off to camp. he’s returning this july, and the feeling hasn’t changed.
i remember how it went last year. i packed his gigantic duffel bag, got his sleeping bag and well-loved stuffy, poa, the pig from disney’s moana, in the car. we’re ready to hit the road. in all my excitement and double-checking the essentials like sunscreen and toothpaste, i realized that my gurgling stomach was churning with emotion.
confession: i was terrified.
this was the first time for my son to be away from home, staying with people he doesn’t know. while this six-day overnight camp in rural ontario was on the water, surrounded by woods and wildflowers, he’d never been there before. and (gulp) i wouuldn’t be staying with him if he’s scared or anxious or doesn’t want to eat the food in the dining hall.
handing over the care reins to someone else is hard
for the parents and caregivers who are familiar with the dread of handing over the care reins to someone else, i get you. how do we let our kids go and experience things without our love right there and accessible? the world can be a scary place. what if some of the other kids don’t like him? what if he feels lonely? what if…
quinton is a warm, funny likeable guy, but he has a lot of atypical challenges as a person with autism and intellectual delays. he can adapt to transitions and new situations pretty well now (after a lot of behaviour therapy and other supports) but the unexpected can be upsetting, even if we’ve talked at length about what could happen. like if he’s in a space where the lights are suddenly turned off or there’s a riot of loud noises, he grabs my hand and covers his ears, anxious to make an exit.
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