018 - Minnesota

It's so hard for me to not be at camp right now.

It's hard enough first session when I know I could be there but am not...being there and then having to leave for a possibly pointless reason is even worse. There are so many if onlys in this situation. If only the tests had been started a week earlier, if only I had gotten it checked out over winter break. If only there were some way to go back and reset the clock so I would know I don't have cancer or whatever before I got to orientation.

I love waking up in Minnesota at camp and smelling the humidity, knowing I'm in for the most uncomfortable day of my life, but at the same time living in a countryside environment I NEVER knew growing up. It's all so amazingly foreign, the animated skylines and the rippling water. The experience of imparting knowledge in a painting is one that can't be explained on a blog. It must be experienced, felt, lived.

Staying out late at the staff room, hanging out with people I'll never see together in one place again. It's sad to know I won't get that chance this year, that chance to complain about kids and generate a yell of agreement from across the room. That chance to squat in the pitch black with Kenichi and shoot the shit, waiting to get tired. The chance to watch the stars while the kids (pretend to) sleep and the chance to help the newer sensei with their roles as leaders.

I look forward to these chances the moment I get that e-mail from Sakura asking if I want to come back. I lie in bed, imagining that my room is filled with the sounds of bugs and birds crying into the night. Imagining that in 7 hours I will have to wake up and herd children to a dining hall where their days will start.

The moment I got that phone call telling me that I had to come home, I almost passed out. I could feel my legs giving way and my speech slurring, the middle of the hallway at Bemidji State University. What if I just had never called home? What if I hadn't answered the phone calls or checked my e-mail? The chances all died in that one instant and I felt a month's worth of hope slipping from my body like blood, pouring out of my ears and making my face and neck red.

I am no longer in Minnesota and it's the hardest thing. This was to be one of my last summers at camp, and I guess through karma or fate it was not meant to be. I will probably not be able to return next year, and one can only hope the chance hits me again.

I look forward to my return, if and when it comes.