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Only *Some* Things Stay at Camp
Camp Ladybug
My mother’s dream came to fruition this past weekend. For thirty years, she dreamt of a place and a time for women to leave the worries & stress of everyday living behind and relax. A place where women create, laugh, and rediscover themselves.
Before the women arrived, Camp Ladybug was just a place — three sleeping cabins, an art house, and the Ladybug Cafe.
In the planning stages of Camp Ladybug, the campers were just names and ages on a piece of paper. What would they look like? Would they like the meals and activities that we had planned?
There was nervous excitement when the clock struck three on Thursday afternoon. Suddenly, names had faces and with that… a kind of magic. A magic that can not be explained in writing, only experienced through intimate conversation, the sharing of a meal, through paint, song, or in the healing power of a guitar.
Camp Ladybug… where sisters go to support one another.
A place where “I used to…” picks up a guitar and plays.
Camp Ladybug… a place to escape the stress of chemotherapy.
Where the little girl inside sets aside fear to pick up a paintbrush.
Camp Ladybug… where leukemia & multiple sclerosis can’t win.
A place where bras are optional and the sound of laughter is a gentle cadence.
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The decorations are put away, the cabins empty, and it’s quiet again. What peace may I find in this silence? The peace of knowing that it was real and it was good.
We left some things behind there… and replaced them with sunshine, strength, tranquility, vibrance, and a promise to ourselves. Each promise is unique. Each truth is unique. And while we all came to camp for different reasons, I believe that we ALL experienced a renewal of spirit.
You are ALL forever in my heart.
