Best Summer of My Life

Summer is over. Camp Denali and North Face Lodge are boarded up for the winter, and summer staff members have dispersed to homes, the next seasonal job, road trips.

Back here in Milwaukee after my own road trip, the temperatures are only starting to cut back to the 60s during the day, and although the leaves are falling, people are still mowing their lawns. Re-entry shock is beginning--beginning--to wear off, and for the past three weeks, I've been telling those who asked that I'd just had the best summer of my life. And the devil of it is, I have been hard-pressed to determine just why that was the case. What was it that made this summer better than any other? Then, as is the way with these things, time sorted out the answer for me.

Gratitude.

Thankful for work, grateful for stamina needed to do it, appreciative of all with whom I did the work.

I'd expressed all along how grateful I was to have been hired. Positions were few this year (13) and applicants were many (150). Yet getting the chance to join this small group of people simultaneously cheered and daunted. And there was that "Camp Granada" spell in June.

Still, by the middle of the season, I realized that I could do the work and I did keep up with the rest of the staff. Age was no longer an issue--and if it ever had been, it was an issue I brought with me. Granted, I slept a lot, but I lugged, lifted, swept and swabbed along with the rest. At a guest dinner one evening, a woman about my age leaned across the table for a high-five when I expressed how grateful I was, at this point in my life, for physical work to do. And for the ability to do it. Another guest spoke to me about that morning's staff introductions. "It was so nice to see someone on staff who wasn't 20."

That's when the real gratitude started. I started to smile more, to relax a little, to enjoy what I was doing whether working or walking to Wonder Lake and back.

Yes, the mosquitos were more than a nuisance (the only good mosquito is a dead mosquito). Yes, the drizzly/foggy/cloudy days dampened spirits. And the less said about that middle-of-the-stormy-night trek to the outhouse, the better. All that notwithstanding, I discovered something. You can't be negative when you're grateful.


But most of all, I'm grateful for the people. In the picture above, you see about 50 reasons why it was the best summer of my life. Living and working within this small community led to unimagined friendships, an unlikely crush, and a deep and genuine appreciation of each person. This is not quite the "d'oh" it sounds. I've lived alone for close to fifteen years; I'm normally vaguely reclusive. I like people, but I prefer my time alone. Yet when you brush your teeth at the spigot on your front porch, hang your underwear out to dry along with Silas' diapers and Bob's work shirts, and everyone knows to whom those striped pajama pants belong...well, you're forced into a different world view! About time.

It was a summer of revelation for me. I left Milwaukee in May eager for an adventure; I returned with every hope fulfilled. So what now? Not sure. But what fun it's going to be to find out!