Remy, dear Remy, had a hard time psyching himself up to go back to Journey’s End Farm Camp. Make no mistake: his first two-week stint there last summer was fantastic. I think I said till I was rather blue in the face that sometimes even a thing you love is hard to return to.
I guess the good news is that I was so relieved he gathered resolve and strength and got in the car without much complaint. I was relieved enough not to feel a bit teary when the car pulled away. His papa drove him to camp, rather than making drop-off more of a family affair. We will, his papa, myself and at least the little sister, go fetch him in just under two weeks’ time.
He was a tiny bit teary.
That’s part of why he put his hand up to block my attempt to document the farewell.
Also, he doesn’t always like to have his picture taken. I hope I always remember how he refused me a photo of his missing two front teeth. He looked achingly beautiful without them, so much so that I found myself staring for the five or so days until the adult teeth poked through.
I have a great picture of him from those nearly toothless few days. He is holding a Popsicle in front of his face much like he held the hand on Sunday.
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This morning, first thing, when I woke up and realized Remy wasn’t going to wander into my room or downstairs, I have to admit, I really missed him. Teary kind of missing; I likened it to losing my big toe, which is to say that I know I can figure out how to walk and eventually—without the toe—I’d figure out how to walk and have that feel normal. Just not immediately—for this first day, it felt quite strange not to have to think about helping him do anything. I thought about what he might be doing. I don’t go to his summer camp, though. I can’t really picture whom he’s talking to or what he’s doing. Having picked him up last August, I can imagine where he’s sleeping and eating and gathering eggs.
I also know, right in my bones, that I’m going to be fine and that he’s going to be more than fine. I am much less worried now than I’d been these same first hours last summer even though he had a harder time leaving.
I mailed him a polished rock.
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Apropos of toothless grins, I did get an adorable toothless photo last week. I am resolved to set up a Flickr whoozywhatzy and try to take a photo per day just like so many of my friends. I’m planning to fail miserably. Except that I have, it turns out, taken to blogging. I even find it comforting, like now.
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Remy and his friends were talking, according to a friend’s mama, about the most people they’d ever performed in front of and the friends both mentioned their participation in Willy Wonka in the spring. They puzzled through how many people were in the audience that night and decided about 500. He said, “Well, my mom has a blog and she pretty much writes about me, and thousands of people read it, so I think I’m more famous than you guys.”
Thank goodness he does let me take his photo most of the time, for the hordes waiting to read all about him.
