From the age of 10 until I graduated high school, Camp Merri-Mac consumed my summers.
I don't know what it was that kept drawing me back. Maybe it was the irrationally happy feeling I received after winning “the Banner" after my first summer (IBT). Maybe it was the proud Chaco tan I always sported upon coming home. It could have been the inspirational chapel sermons we heard from Adam every morning before embarking on a full day of activities, or maybe it was learning new things every day. Who would have ever thought I would be good with a rifle?
Was it the white water rafting adventures, life-changing late-night chats, learning how to shoot a bow and arrow, making a fool out of myself by playing the role of Cindy Loo-Hoo in front of the entire camp (thanks Mary Page), or simply laughing until my stomach hurt?
While these were all reasons that kept me coming back each summer, there were a small group of people that I need to thank for not only making these summers memorable, but for shaping me into the person I am today.
Camp friends are different than normal friends. Unless you're a “camp girl" like I was, it's a little hard to explain.
You arrive at camp and are thrown into a cabin with, let's face it, a bunch of strangers. It's intimidating, it's weird, and it's downright scary. But after spending four weeks with these girls for the majority of your teenage summers, they become your sisters and friends for life.
Who else could stand on tables and sing obnoxious tribe songs with you until you lose your voice, or stay up all night talking about life until Reveille rings?
Where else other than summer camp can you run around entirely coated in paint from head to toe and consider that normal? Not to mention running around in overalls, one piece bathing suits, and Crocs.
There's only a few people that have seen me covered from head to toe in mud after spending the night in the middle of a thunderstorm on top of a cliff.
Only camp friends understand how exciting it is to go to a Rockmont dance (BOYS!), going off camp premises to get ice cream at Huckleberry's, or the sheer joy of receiving a large package from your parents (even though you had to give all your candy to the counselors).
Only camp friends understand the importance of tribal rivalry, and how, in the end, it truly doesn't matter who takes home the banner (although we all know Iroquois is the best).
As we grew in years (and height), our friendships grew in strength, and I have so much to be thankful for.
Who else was going to be there while you waited anxiously to get a letter from a boyfriend at home that never ended up arriving (and talk some sense into you about what's really important in life)?
Who else was going to support you on your decision to begin a relationship with Jesus?
No one else but you and your camp friends understand the sheer agony that occurs at the end of a summer. Post camp depression is real and going back to reality was always pure torture.
As we've grown even older and I've stopped going to camp, I am so blessed to say that I have maintained these friendships. Regardless of where our futures take us, I always know we will be able to call Merri-Mac our home.
Thank you Camp Merri-Mac, for introducing me to the best people I will ever know.
Camp friends are the best friends.
“This is goodnight and not goodbye."
