Letting Go

This week my granddaughter was supposed to go to her first church camp. When I asked her if she wanted to go, she seemed enthusiastic. Her brothers both did too. That was at the beginning of the summer. On the first day of camp, about an hour after she was supposed to be there, I received word from her father/my son that she didn't want to go and he had forgotten about it. Her mother told her she didn't have to go.

I know that at 13 it is difficult to go someplace new on your own, without a friend. Yet her aunt/my daughter was there, and my granddaughter knew it. She didn't say anything about not wanting to go ahead of time. It wasn't until the day that camp started that we first had any inkling that she didn't want to go.

Now that would be reason enough for me to be peeved. The fee was already paid and I know I won't be getting all of my money back. But that's not the reason I'm having such a hard time letting go of this.

This family does not participate in any religious institution. That's at least partly my fault, as I wasn't participating in any religious institution on any regular basis when my son was growing up. I've never pushed to get them to do so because I firmly believe that it is their choice. But I can't think of a better place to experience God than camp. And that's the only reason I wanted them to go.

But I particularly wanted her to go, because she desperately needs to know that she's ok without having to act like an 18 year old. And she missed that experience.

So I'm trying to let go, and hoping that perhaps I can persuade her for next year.

Letting go. It's tough.