My daughters went to camp up near Asheville the last week of July. It is a week they look forward to every year. Equipped with sleeping bags, bug spray, sunscreen, and clothes that never find their way back into their duffle bags or our house, we made the three hour ride to Camp Grier on a Sunday, belting out camp songs and excitedly talking about the rope bridge, rock slide, and outdoor overnights.

Near the end of camp week, on a Thursday night around 9:30, I got a call from Camp Grier. It was the nurse. She began by saying, “Emily, this is Jeannie from Camp Grier, your daughters are okay, I just wanted to let you know…” Then she paused. It is during those seconds of quiet that my mind spun like a hamster wheel. Just wanted to let me know that a meteor carrying aliens had landed? Let me know that Riley or Ryann or Riley and Ryann were involved in a girls gone wild camp video? Let me know that there had been a bear attack? Let me know that snakes had arrived in herds and were blocking the entrance to the dining hall? Let me know … WHAT Jeannie? Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Jeannie continued, “… Ryann has been at the nurse’s cabin every day and I wanted to tell you what happened.” On Monday, Ryann had a sore elbow. On Tuesday, her bottom was itchy. On Wednesday, she had a heat rash on the back of her neck. But it was Thursday that was the real kicker.

Ryann walked her little 10 year-old, blonde headed self into the nurse’s cabin and I can only discern from knowing my daughter that her conscience was starting to outweigh her hypochondria. With tears brimming in her dark blue eyes, she simply said, “Nurse Jeannie, this is not a medical emergency. I was just wondering if this was where you could come if you needed extra hugs.”

Nurse Jeannie answered, “Of course this is where you could come for extra hugs.”  After hugging for a few minutes off Ryann went, joining her group to hike the rocky trail for overnight up near the fire tower.

Nurse Jeannie told me that in all her years of nursing no kid had ever been as bold as to state clearly what she needed and then be okay, and that she thought Ryann was just the cutest, sweetest camper ever.

I exhaled, relieved that no meteors, aliens, gone wild videos, bears, or snakes were involved in this conversation. I choked back tears and the overwhelming impulse to drive straight to Camp Grier, fetch my girl, and hug her all the way home.

 

It did not surprise me that Ryann needed extra hugs. Her love language is resoundingly that of physical touch. She would be at her happiest if we lived in a one room house, leaving one bed for herself,  her sister, our two dogs, John, Emmy from next door, lots of stuffed animals and our friends’ baby, JP, to all sleep in a big snuggle pile. (Notice that there isn’t a space for me in this picture because if this were reality I would have long ago taken furlough to the looney bin.)

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It was that same week while having dinner and wine with my girlfriend, Teresa, that she asked me, “Em, what is it that you want? Are you clear on what you want and need and are you clearly stating those things to the universe and to the people who need to hear them?”

The brain light bulb buzzed with brightness as I connected the dots back to Ryann and Nurse Jeannie. I wasn’t being clear at all. I was at the nurse’s station talking elbow and itchy bottom. I wasn’t clearly articulating what I wanted and needed. The fear of really saying what you want and need and suffering the disappointment and hurt of not getting it seems greater than the risk of talking all around things and hoping that you hit the right chord causing what you want and need to magically appeareth. “Crazymaking” is what Julia Cameron calls this type of vague, uncertain behavior. Emotional hypochondria is what I am realizing it looks, sounds, and smells like.

Why not just state where is it that we want to go in the journey called life and consider what we need for our trip from ourselves and from others?  Then pack for it … keeping in mind that rest stops, maps, a compass, lots of friends, encouragement, and perhaps some bug spray will help as we hike along our trails. And when we are feeling lonely or blue, remember it’s courageous to ask for an extra hug, or maybe two.