My goodness, what a beautiful long weekend. Who wouldn’t have fun on a weekend like this?
When I heard my brother-in-law say, “It’s only fun when you decide it’s fun,” he wasn’t talking to me, but he sure could have been.
It was a beautiful weekend, but it was a hard weekend. This is the second time we’ve gone back to camp since moving away, and it’s just hard.
There was a church service at the camp on Sunday morning, open to any cottagers or campers in the Whiteshell for the weekend, so my family went to it, like usual.
Except this time, we weren’t at camp, welcoming them there. We were the ones attending for one brief hour on a Sunday morning.
I always loved Sunday mornings at camp. And when we climbed the hill to the chapel, and I saw the view spread out before me, I kinda lost it.
When the worship team started singing, and all those summers of memories hit strong, there was no way I could keep myself from crying. There was a big part of me that was very tempted to slip into thinking, “Why did we ever leave?”
Because when you leave, it’s really easy to only remember the perfect stuff, and it’s easy to chuck reason out the window, and just wallow in the fact that something made you happy, and you can’t have it anymore.
But it’s only fun when you decide it’s fun!
Life is fun. We are thoroughly enjoying ourselves in Niverville. Life is very good here. And life was very good at camp.
I get to choose what I’m going to think about, and how I’m going to remember the good times without feeling sorry for myself that they’re over, and things are different now.
I asked Ben once if he was glad we left camp. He said, “I’m not glad we left, but we needed to.”
And I’m happy. But sometimes I need to decide that I’m happy, because change is hard.
Anika sat on a bench at camp, looking like she was about to cry. Her friends have also moved away from camp, and there was no one there to play with. It’s not the way it used to be. She came to me, asking if we could leave.
As we drove back to my parents’ cabin, past all those trees I know so well, and around the curves of the highway we’ve all memorized, I was choosing again and again not to wallow and regret.
We got back to the cabin and my parents saved the day. My dad was blowing up Canada Day balloons, and my mom was getting ready for a party.
Anika quickly forgot her sadness, and ran for the streamers.
Because it’s fun when you decide it’s fun! Oh, I hope we get really good at choosing!
*I wrote this post, and then I read this post, which is quite related, and plain fantastic.
I celebrate creativity and applaud imagination in my children mostly because the ability to create something new–to dream up a different way of doing something–means they are more guaranteed to find happiness in life. The more they create and practice building something from nothing or changing not-so-great into fabulous, the more likely they are to use creative strategies to develop solutions to challenges in their life.
It is all a choice! I hope your week is filled with wonderful, creative choices and decisions!