The past week, and particularly the past few days have been full of talk and excitement about Wyatt's first camping trip with Daddy. They borrowed a canoe, for fishing, which is another first for Wyatt. He's been practicing his casting for over a year now, but he's never been near water with his fishing rod. His Uncle Kolin will be meeting them tomorrow for fishing.
I was excited, and fully on board with this plan, and helped with all the packing, list-making and preparations... so why, when I was watching Kenton load him into the truck this afternoon, was I teary-eyed and anxious? I've been away from him overnight before... a couple stagette's, a few sleepovers with his cousins, times spent in the hospital with Dawson... but this seemed different somehow.
I know part of it is my constant nervousness about safety, and imagining all of the accidents that could occur. I have the same anxieties whenever Kenton goes hunting. But I also feel an aching, like something's missing. Or changing. Is my little boy really grown up enough to go camping without me? Is he really ready for a "boys trip"? When we said goodbye, he seemed more concerned about me missing him, than the other way around... but he's always been very empathetic and observant of unspoken feelings, so that really doesn't surprise me. Maybe it's the reminder that, little by little, I have to start letting him go.
I'm looking forward to frying up some trout tomorrow, but for now, it's time to quell my fears and get some sleep. And, I forgot to send the camera with them, but Wyatt brought his own VTech camera, so if there are any discernable pictures, I'll add them tomorrow.
