I want to go to International Music Camp.  I wish I had done more with the violin as a kid; unfortunately, when it comes to musical talent I am not gifted (or even re-gifted).  I never really “played” the violin – I had a violin and I “practiced” it, but “play” – I think not.

Yet today, as I delivered Cheyenne to International Music Camp (located within the Peace Gardens) and saw so many young people excited about music and already buzzing about creating pockets of music around the camp, I wished that I had the opportunity to go back in time and realize that the practice of violin was the first necessary step to not only playing violin, but more importantly to creating a beautiful expression the way only music can. 

Of course, having no skills wasn’t going to stop me from participating in music camp.  I thought that perhaps I should volunteer to work at the camp while Cheyenne is there and then I could – even if I was talentless myself – soak in all the lovely talent around me.  I could be a help I theorized…I have some skills…surely there had to be something for me to do. Right??

When we arrived in the camp parking lot I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to get Cheyenne out of the car.  The camp was decidely bigger than either of us had imagined and it was clear that kids Cheyenne’s age were the youngest kids at the camp (it looks like the range is comprised of those going into 7th through 12th grade).  Cheyenne, being the shy kid she is, hesitated as we parked and got that look on her face, the look that told me that her nerves were setting in and getting the best of her. 

This isn’t the first time I have dealt with these nerves.  Her first day in 6th grade was a similar event.  That time I offered to go into school with her and the fear of being seen being escorted into school with her mom was enough to launch her from the car and into the unknown.  This time though my presence was required for registration and check-in, so the best I could offer was that I would come back and get her if she didn’t like it after a day or two and then I bolted out of the car to be sure that we maintained forward movement.

We had quite a wait in the registration line.  Cheyenne and I spent the whole time just soaking it all in.  Apparently, there are many kids who are here for their second or third year and the friendships they created in years past remained with them as they bounded across the auditorium screeching and hugging friends they had not seen for a year.  That was about the time that I started really wishing that I could have gone to music camp as a kid – if for no other reason than the friendships.

Luckily, Cheyenne has a friend likewise attending music camp – Sofia.  About halfway to the dorm Sofia intercepted us and much screeching and hugging was generated from my shy child who had contemplated not getting out of the car.  Before you know it I was just an afterthought and used solely for my pack mule and funding utility.  

After I had performed all my parental duties of carting and paying, I asked Cheyenne if she would like it if I would volunteer at the camp.  Shockingly, she said, “Uh – NO…really mother??!!”  Then she said, “Bye, mom – see you Saturday!” and summarily dispatched me while she headed off to enjoy music camp with Sofia and an already growing group of gal pals she and Sofia had collected.  

As I walked back to the car I smiled to myself as I realized that the girl I was getting back on Saturday would not be the same one I dropped off.  She will have had an experience that allowed her to grow and experience new things…she will possess a collection of memories and new friends…she will have lived this week in a world where she was treated more like an autonomous, capable individual than a kid…she will have had a blast at music camp and will undoubtedly want to go again and again.

Yes, I wish I could go to music camp, but what is even better is knowing that Cheyenne is there and will be enriched by the magic that exists there.  But make no mistake, I will be revisiting the idea of volunteering there next year with Cheyenne – my dreams of music camp aren’t dead yet. 😉

Day seven hundred and forty-nine of the new forty – obla di obla da

Ms. C