The smell of campfires in the night air and the sound of Cicadas outside my window reminded me it was summer in Upstate NY. I haven’t ever liked summer. It’s not just because I am always warm. You’ll never see me wear a coat even on the coldest winter day. That wasn’t the real reason I disliked summer, my childhood was the reason. I loved school as a kid and I didn’t want it to end. I knew that ending of the school year meant loneliness. The other kids looked forward to a summer of playing hopscotch and marco polo in the pool. To most it meant a summer of overnight camps with ghost stories and s’mores to look forward to. I longed for an overnight camp but that wasn’t in the cards for me. Most of my childhood was in a wheelchair which wasn’t conducive to me playing hopscotch or marco polo.
School days or rainy days meant the other kids were inside and would keep me company. But hot summer days meant all of the kids were outside and I was alone. I wished for a summer full of rainy days but I knew that wasn’t realistic. One summer my parents took pity on me and found a way for me to spend a weekend at brownie camp. An older girl scout was assigned to help me get dressed and go to the bathroom. She followed me everywhere and assisted me. It was heaven. I remember falling asleep in the night air in the top bunk the girl scout had helped me get into. I felt like a normal kid for once but it was short lived. I am unsure why I couldn’t continue doing this, maybe it was too much to assign someone to a grown girl or maybe it was just too good to be true. More