Karen:
In 2013, Billy went away to Camp Starfish, a truly wonderful camp for special needs kids, for 18 days – a huge event for us, since it was the first time in twelve years that we didn’t have to take care of Billy. This is the poem that got my and India's collaboration on autism poems really started. It seemed to touch a nerve in everyone who read it. The response was tremendous. You an see that our family is still “going through hell" at this point, but it is starting to get a little, just a little, better.
In 2013, Billy went away to Camp Starfish, a truly wonderful camp for special needs kids, for 18 days – a huge event for us, since it was the first time in twelve years that we didn’t have to take care of Billy. This is the poem that got my and India's collaboration on autism poems really started. It seemed to touch a nerve in everyone who read it. The response was tremendous. You an see that our family is still “going through hell" at this point, but it is starting to get a little, just a little, better.
Michael and Ricky at camp pick-up
A Christmas Gift in July
(Billy goes to Camp)
A child holds a place in your heart
But sometimes you need space of your own
Many children thrive at sleep-away camp
But would Billy? This was unknown.
Often our friends would suggest camp.
But my mind would fill with fear.
So many things could go wrong;
The answer was “maybe next year”.
But there was a place called Camp Starfish
Where my friend sent her own autistic son.
We visited one day, during her son’s stay
And found him happy, and having fun.
By May it was up to us.
The Camp director was willing to try.
Then Billy’s trial run at a weekend house
Convinced me that maybe so was I.
Driving up to the camp in late June,
Early summer in all its glory.
Within Billy’s suitcase was Leopard the Lab,
A photo album, a Dr. Suess story.
Small items of comfort for him,
But comfort was not to be found,
As we drove into camp and Billy
Apprehensively held his ground.
He’s seen every building before.
Even visited where he would sleep.
But just then it seemed to him
That the best thing to do was weep.
He refused to get out of the car.
“I go home” was all he could say.
Camp Starfish was okay for visits
But no way could we make him stay.
We comforted, cajoled and coaxed.
His counselor had no better luck.
Billy only consented to leave the car
In my armpit, where his nose was stuck.
So we walked in this dignified state
Across the camp grounds to the nurse
And I was desperately thinking:
Please, please, don’t let this get worse.
But in little more than a moment
Things can move from right to wrong.
I spied a young counselor with campers
And they kindly sang Billy a song.
By the end he was singing along
With a smile that banished his funk,
Happily tramping away from his Mom
With all of the kids from his bunk.
Ricky followed to check on him
Making sure that his brother didn’t see,
Stealthily trailing him through the woods
Moving from tree to tree.
And though it seemed like a dream
Just then, I knew Billy’d be fine.
His counselors were skilled and caring,
He’d have friends, and food, and sunshine.
Sure enough, when we’d call from home,
The reports confirmed this for me:
Billy was good, and enjoying his stay,
Which was great, because so were we!
And when we came to collect him
(after 18 days had flown by)
He’d made so many friends at Camp Starfish
That as we left, he started to cry.
Next year, I won’t have any doubts.
Next year, it’s the lush life for me.
I’m labeling all t-shirts and underpants,
Then it’s off to camp for all three!
