Contributed by: Terry Matlen, ACSW
Today I dropped off
my twenty year old
daughter, who has ADHD and a variety of challenging disabilities,
to the camp bus stop here in southeast Michigan. She'll be away for
23 days and 3 ½ hours, which equate to 555 1/2 hours (but who's
counting?). This is her fifth year attending the special needs
program that our wonderful, local camp developed for the dozen or
so "special" campers that arrive each summer. Five years ago, when
Mackenzie made her maiden voyage, I was a total, emotional wreck,
worrying how she'd fare and whether she'd even keep it together
long enough to get through the bus ride, or whether I'd get a phone
call within hours to come pick her up.
For three weeks
, I was practically tethered to the
phone, waiting for that call to come. It never did. It turned out
that my daughter had the time of her life.
The following year
, I sent her again, still with a
good dash of trepidation, worried that she'd have trouble getting
through the session without having meltdowns bad enough to warrant
her returning home. Nope, wrong again. And again and again.
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