UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

NEW SPECIMENS OLD SPECIMENS THE SCIENTIST MY LOG CONTACT ME
2003-06-01 - 9:27 p.m.

NOT BEING THERE

�I am at Culver�s but I am not here,� I told Mr. Philately. �I will not be here for the next 45 minutes or so and then Day-Hay and I will be home.� I think I told him that I had not been at the YMCA most of the afternoon. I am getting good at not being places. Being the parent of a young teen sometimes requires a parent to be invisible.

Day-Hay is volunteering as a counselor-in-training at the Y�s day camp this summer. Today was open house and she had been asked to come, pick up a field trip t-shirt, and help with the open house. There are several other CITs and several are close to her age but only one boy looks like he is close to her age. Given her petiteness, a quick glance makes it look as if she is a camper, not part of the staff. Most of the staff towers over her. So do most of the CITs. I know. I was there�even though I was not.

Day-Hay was not sure how long she was supposed to be at the open house. The information had not been particularly specific. She had been told to drop by when she could and stay as long as she could so the counselors could meet her. Many of the counselors were from past years and already knew her. A few were new and she met them. Still, she was unsure and she wanted me there and she did not. So, under a tree somewhere with several parents of children involved in some other activity, I was there�even though I was not.

Slowly my slow-to-warm up child became at ease. She, who has been at the camp since she was five, started answering parents� questions about where things were and what the daily schedule was. She even began (tactfully, thank goodness) to correct a counselor who had some misinformation. She started being part of the tours and she started chatting with the counselors. I could see it because I was there�-even though I was not.

By then, I could have left but there was not time to go very far so I retreated to the car, turned on the radio, and read. Some of the time I stared off into space instead of reading but I appreciated the quiet. Then it was pick-up time so I returned to the area to see the counselors and the CITs playing an intense game of four-square. I watched my tiny daughter happily join in, cheerfully get out, and glow with excitement. I watched her from a distance so I was there�even though I was not.

Eventually, she needed a mom. She needed a mom because the counselors were going for ice cream and invited the CITs to come. She needed permission and a ride. Suddenly, having a mom was acceptable, at least for the moment. I granted permission and gave the ride. I went in but I did not stand behind her in line. I got a snack but I ate in while they ate out. I saw her, in her bright, over-sized camp t-shirt, sit and chat with counselors and CITs. As I told Mr. Philately, I was there�even though I was not.

Then, when it was time to go home, she went to the car, not me, and I met her there. She had had fun and told me that it was like having a whole bunch of older sisters and brothers�and a few her own age too.

I am glad I could watch her blossom. I was glad I was there�even though I was not.

LAST YEAR: Taking Out the Garbage

TWO YEARS AGO: Prison Liberation, Of Sorts (One of life�s fun stories to tell)

The Art of the Nap
The Go-Go Girl is Gone-Gone
Phoning It In
Creativity
Laundering Money

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