I've been doing a lot of writing, most of it too personal to post online. My last post was over a month ago - I will never forget that day.
This morning I dropped my son off at camp, as I had planned to do months ago but there was a hitch in our plans. Today would have been the first day of hockey and sports camp. If all had gone as it was supposed to, my son would have woken me up, yelling, "Let's go!" If all had gone as planned, I would have rung a doorbell, waited a few minutes for someone to answer and been greeted by a smile brighter than a summer afternoon. If all had gone as planned, I would have dropped off my son and his hockey gear in my friend's truck, knowing both would be taken care of. If all had gone as planned, I would not have to worry about the clock, zooming to pick my boy up by 4PM or risk late fees. If all had gone as planned, my son's favourite part of camp would happen after camp - hanging out in the swimming pool, playing with kids and dogs, being doted on by a woman who treated all kids as if the they were her grandbabies.
If all had gone to plan, my son would have spent the next two weeks at Peter Zezel Hockey and Sports Camps.
All has gone as planned but by forces I cannot comprehend. Peter passed away a few weeks ago and didn't want the camps to go on without him, so they won't. I had hoped they would, even though they would never, could never be the same without his direct involvement. Even without Peter, there were the other instructors and counsellors who made it a fantastic experience, but Pete was Pete - if his name was on it, he had to be part of it.
In a few hours I will pick up my son from his first day of camp and he'll be chattering away non-stop telling me all about his adventures. He'll go on about who did this, who did that, what So-and-So said and why he didn't get a super-mega-pack-o-sugarettos for lunch.
Today I will pick up my son from camp and realise life really does go on, no matter what we planned.