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So, camping. Some of my most precious memories of my family are of our camping trips. We did a lot of camping in the old days. My parents had a small trailer so we never tented it. And we’d go all over, most of the time with family, friends, or church members. While I was just wee thing back then, I still remember enough that the smell of campfire always brings me back. Always. It is said that scent is one of the strongest triggers of memory (this has been your useless factoid of the day. You’re welcome).
The funniest thing about this is that I am not an outdoorsy person at all. In summer, it takes an act of God to get me outdoors for any length of time. I am not big on hiking, or running around the woods, or even lots of walking around in 90+ degree weather. But I make the exception for camping. I’ll admit it. I might be physically uncomfortable if it’s too hot, but I suck it up because I love camping so much.
I think I associate it with family and getting away. When you’re camping, you’re away from everything. I have yet to find a campground with Wi-Fi, but as I told my hubby just today over dinner, I’m not sure I want to be plugged in. I spend so much time online and on my computer that a week without is a refreshing break. I don’t even plan on doing any writing projects, although I will bring something with me (including my netbook) in case the urge moves me. It’s always a toss up whether I feel like it or not. I let my mood determine things. Sometimes I need a week away, and sometimes I don’t.
Family. I referred to the “old days” and that’s deliberate. Once my sister and I got older and were working, we more or less stopped camping. In fact, my parents were forced to sell their trailer for financial reasons, and I remember feeling horrid about it. We hadn’t gone camping in years, but it was still there, reminding me of days gone by. Losing it was like losing a part of myself, of my history. I’m sad just thinking about it right now, and it’s been gone for over a decade.
We’ve had some ups and downs as a family, and back then, things were good between us all. There weren’t any rifts due to being rich or being poor. Everyone got along pretty well. My grandparents were alive and well (I still can picture their camper vividly to this day). I was carefree then, not worrying about anything except being alive, having fun, and spending time with my family. In 2009, we had another rift happen so those memories are all the more precious. I have a few pictures that I can’t bear to look at. And, of course, both my beloved grandparents are no longer with us.
It’s amazing what more than two decades will change. I remember one of the campgrounds we stayed at called Lakeport. It’s in Michigan. And on the beach there was this little path you could barely see that led to a swing set. Yes, a swing set! Now, I’ll share something with you: one of my favorite things to do, even to this day, is swing on a swing set. You’re probably thinking I’m off my rocker for sure, but it makes sense, I promise! It has to do with feeling carefree, of evoking the memory of those long-gone days on that same swing set in Lakeport. I could be an old woman, but when I’m on a swing set, swinging as high as I can, I’m a little kid with nothing to lose and all the time in the world, carefree and perfect and young again. I went back there with my ex-husband about fourteen years ago and I made sure to find the swing set again (it was still there!). I swung on it, and I felt better than I had in years. It’s magical. I even wrote a poem about it.
In a week, hubby and I will be heading out to our usual campground. He’ll fish and I’ll read and/or write. I’ll take in the fresh air and roast marshmallows over the fire. I’ll leave all my worries behind and stay present in the moment. Because that’s what life is all about — being present and aware and alive. I’ll savor the memory of way back when, but I’ll make new memories with my husband. Nothing is really over, is it? We’re the new generation. And we’ll keep the tradition alive.