Wednesday, October 2, 2019

Coincidences :: Essays Papers

Coincidences â€Å"Hurry Taylor, we’re late sweetie.† â€Å"But Mom, I’ve gotta make sure I have everything!† Taylor screams in a whiny voice. The day I’ve been dreading has finally arrived. My oldest daughter is leaving for the summer to work as a camp counselor. She’s working at the same camp that I worked at when I was 16. â€Å"Mom!! I can’t find my adidas, HELP ME.† Yells Taylor, sounding like she’s in a state of emergency. â€Å"Sweetie, they’re already in the van, you packed them this morning.† I replied. â€Å"Dad! Are you coming? We’re leaving in five minutes.† Taylor screams in excitement. Dressed in faded overalls, with her hair pulled up and tied back with a bright yellow ribbon, she looks so grown up -- so mature. I’ve never been more nervous. What am I going to do without my baby all summer? Who’s going to keep my fashion sense in line? Who’s going to watch Felicity with me? Ahh! She can’t leave me! â€Å"Ya know mom, I’m gonna miss being home this summer, I’ll come home during the five week break and I’ll call you as much as I can.† Taylor looks at me with true sincerity. Tears are filling my eyes, I can’t show her my weakness. I quickly change the subject. There’s the sign, â€Å"YMCA CAMP WEWA, 5 MILES.† â€Å"Jamie, look at this place. Nothing has changed. It seems like we were just here yesterday.† Jake mentions as he rolls his window down. Taylor quickly perks up in her seat; her eyes open wide with excitement. She’s been going to this camp since she was eight years old. This will be her first year as a counselor. I can remember my first year. Summer of 1969, the best summer of all. It was the summer I met my husband. I was the counselor of the Washoe cabin, and he kept the boys of the Witchita cabin in line. I can remember those sparkling days like they were yesterday. June 6, 1969†¦ I’m finally here. The cabin is desolate now, but in about an hour it’s going to resemble a can of sardines. Thirteen girls each bringing two or more bags and seven bunk beads all shoved into a small wooden cabin. What a mess it will be. It’s noon, the first set of camper’s drive up to the cabin.

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