My Dear, Sweet Camp Wapiyapi:
Oh, how I Love You.
You, a shining beacon of love that engulfs my children in a warm and glowing hug of gooey hope and acceptance; recruits loving and nearly impossible-to-believe humans who exude compassion and ridiculous amounts of cheer; encourages me to be a “smother” yet gives me the confidence that my delicate – yet tenacious – children are absolutely fine without me….
Oh, how I Love You.
From that first time I drove the 90 miles to your beautiful mountain setting, my love for you withstands. I entrusted you with my precious seven-year-old. I was apprehensive to leave, yet wept at the concept of having this rite of passage – this normalcy – of sending my child to camp. Sure, it was a camp specifically for cancer kids, but it was priceless for someone like me who never anticipated – or felt secure enough – to leave their child in the care of others. And as I watched from behind the wheel of my vehicle as my sweet boy confidently grasped the hand of his companion, I cried. The image forever burned in my mind of my heart incarnate as he held the hand of his much taller companion – a wonderful college boy named Chris – as they walked off toward their cabin, ready to make new, non-cancerous memories.
Oh, how I Love You.
You tout that you offer these children “The Best Week of the Year.” That’s a hefty claim, but one you consistently make good on. Many events in this world of pediatric cancer are “once in a lifetime” events. So many philanthropic hearts want to offer the pediatric cancer community something amazing – and we have had some incredible opportunities. I’ve appreciated them all, of course, but what I’m trying to say is that Camp Wapiyapi is CONSISTENT. Even Ben missed going to camp when he relapsed or when he had to leave early because he had just started chemo. You remain a part of our FAMILY. Do you know what that means to me?
Oh. How I Love You.
And now that Madeline is old enough to go, it has been instrumental in her development. This is one of the things I LOVE MOST about Wapiyapi – the fact that Madeline is included. She has been able to bond with siblings just like her, who often feel forgotten PLUS have the ridiculous distinction of having to watch their sibling struggle through something so awful. She has learned that she is not alone. The silent shame that she carries – the fact that she gets a bit peeved when her brother gets cool stuff and she doesn’t – isn’t a burden at Camp Wapiyapi. Other siblings carry that, too. It’s NORMAL in our abnormal world. And the fact that Wapiyapi includes her, accepts her, and loves her – just as much as they love the children who have the cancer diagnosis – means the world to her. And to me. In fact, you saw her blossom this year when she stood alone on a stage in front of you and belted out a song in the talent show. She chose, “Let It Go” from “Frozen.” Any parent with a young girl living in their home knows this song – and perhaps is more than ready for this song to be a passing phase. I would have
loved to be in the audience listening to my daughter belt out something we’ve been working on. But since I wasn’t in the audience, I am genuinely touched by all the people who came up to me to let me know what a beautiful job she did.
Oh, how I Love You.
I felt like a star yesterday when I opened my car door to a flood of adoring Ben and Madeline fans who longed to gush about my beautiful children. Your descriptors filled my heart: Sweet. Loving. Caring. Compassionate. Kind. Adorable. Amazing. Strong. Polite. Gracious. I can live on these words for a long time. But the super cool thing is that I know you offer these words to all of us. You LOVE our children. You sincerely, undoubtedly, whole-heartedly love our children.
Oh, how I Love You.
The joy you exude and instill in my children (fortifies us). Ben’s companion this year – the AMAZING Tanner – has fought cancer twice. I would think there might be a time when a young adult who has fought for his life would want to leave all that behind. But the fact that Tanner stepped up to make the best of his horrific experience – that he was there to encourage my little fighter to keep on fighting – touched me to my core. You are an incredible young man, Tanner. I sincerely hope that my Ben and Maddy follow in your footsteps and offer their amazing insight just like you have. You are so very brave. I applaud Wapiyapi for giving you an environment to use those amazing talents. And Maddie, thank you for caring for my Maddy. I don’t know where Wapiyapi finds beautiful souls like you, but I’m forever grateful that you shared precious time with my daughter.
I know, I know. My cynical self doesn’t usually get this oozy when it comes to sharing the love. However, I simply cannot express my gratitude for Wapiyapi without it getting all sticky. You can’t believe what you’re seeing is real. It’s so beautiful – and nearly mythical – that all these amazing people come together to care for these remarkable children. It’s almost like a mirage… and as we walk closer – the thirst for this beauty palpable in our dry throats begging for a sweet drink of love – fearful that you are actually a mirage and will disappear at any moment. When we arrive and are able to touch you, we weep in relief that you actually do exist.
You’re real. Thank goodness.
Oh, how I Love You.
Sincerely,
Ben and Maddy’s Mom