Everything Changes

For the holiday weekend, we spent lots of time in Holmes Co.  The afternoons on Friday and Sunday were spent at Long Lake campground with Joy (Brian's mom) and other members of Brian's family...

But one person was missing.

Dale's hat was still hanging at the entrance to the camper.  A sad reminder of his favorite past time. 

And I was struck by the saying, "You don't know what you've missed until it's gone."

I don't really like camping.  There's just not enough action for me.  Deciding whether to grill hot dogs or burgers.  Whether to ride a bike to the pool or ask the neighbors for the golf cart.  These type of things just don't get my "travel" bug a buzzing.

But Brian has always loved camping.  Dale and Joy camped with the boys from the time they were young.  So when the first summer after high school, Brian's parents allowed him to bring me along to Tappan Lake for a weekend, I said, "yes."  (As I do now, I loved Brian enough to forgo hot showers and a flushing toilet).

But what I realized this weekend is that I really didn't mind all the times spent camping.  In fact, I enjoyed them.  We spent some time sharing memories this weekend of camping in 50 degree weather over Labor Day 2003 when I only packed shorts and t-shirts (oops).  We laughed about some of the campers Brian's mom and dad have poked around in and other camping mishaps.  At the time what I had chalked up to "boredom" or "too slow" was really days well spent-- building memories not scrapbooks.

Now that Dale is gone, going to the campground tastes differently and it may just be that way for awhile...  but I have a small feeling that some day I'll be wearing my Yoder camping hat, cuddled in a tent with my boys, and telling them all about the days spent camping with "Pappy."  We'll joke and laugh and smile...just like Dale would want us to do.