From my senior citizen perspective looking back through the haze of decades, I am suddenly wondering what was real and what has been romanticized. Stories over years of telling take on a life of their own. For example, Camp Kowaunkami. Though I say I loved camp - I am now remembering a piteous week of punishment and humiliation when the counselors forced me to sit on the beach and "watch but not participate" because as a clumsy camper I had steered my rowboat into a canoe full of counselors (mature women of 17 and 18)) who screamed insults at me once they came up, recovered from the dunk and got the canoe righted. Looking back, hazy or not, they were cruel. Still I say I loved camp. I think I did. I guess I wasn't scarred for life - I went back the next year without incident (that I can remember!) and lived all these years thinking I loved camp.
5 comments:
This is the way our memories should be...forget the crap and remember the best stuff.
You're right--parts of high school were living hell for me in many ways and I'd never re-live those times, but all in all I had a pretty good time!
Doesn't sound like you've romanticized your memories of camp at all. The years have just given you the wisdom and the ability to separate wheat from chaff. You now see them both.
I did love camp....even the bout of poison oak that got me hospitalized. Even if I had to go home early to my drunken parents. Yes, we do see these things through a haze of time, but I believe we are right.
What an insightful post. Ypu are so right! There are thimgs like that from when I was little too. interesting . Just never thought about it like that before.
Interesting post..... and it's so much easier on us, if we remember the good happenings.
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