Did I spell that right? Sigh, feeling too bittersweet to find out. My son is at camp. It was a last minute decision, one we really could not afford but we saw some high risk/worrisome behaviors that told us we need to move in that direction. Luckily things all fell into place. They have a live feed where you can see the daily activities, and a few times a week you can see a longer concert and such. I've gotten glimpses into his life at camp, seen him having fun, joining in in a way that he hasn't for a while, seen that this is a GREAT thing for him, finding friends, forging relationships, learning to live with this beast. It's so cool to seem him surrounded by others dealing with exactly what he's dealing with, being active and in control, finding himself outside the diagnosis. So why I am bawling, sitting here just sobbing. I hate that he's there. I hate that he NEEDS to be there. I hate that I see very young children there. I hate that ANYONE needs to be there. I loved when they had the cabins join in a big circle, supporting one another, giving to each other. It's awesome, it is a blessing, and I hope it changes his life for the better, forever. But I wish he were home, and he didn't need to be there. While I hope he makes friends that last a lifetime and he can lean on, I wish he never needed to know any of them. But then I feel guilty for that thought, what a horrible, horrible thought. Boo. I hate feeling this way. I want to watch him, view the photos, see the good in where he is.