Flashback Friday: On Turning 22.

I don't know about you, but I cannot believe I am almost 22.  The last time I was literally double digits (i.e. where the ones and tens digits are the same), I was "graduating" from sixth grade at my elementary school.  In just a few short days (on Tuesday), I will celebrate my "Taylor Swift" birthday just a few weeks after graduating college.  Talk about a flashback, right?

Birthdays have always been weird to me; having one in the summer meant always being the kid who had to arrange her class party on an alternate date or have a birthday party earlier in the summer, or even in the school year, because of people's travel plans.  And when I started going to camp the weekend I turned nine, my birthday either meant getting ready to go to camp or being at camp.  In total, I spent five birthdays at camp and two in the car heading to camp during my eleven years as a camper and counselor.  Last year I turned 21 while studying abroad, a rather anticlimactic occurrence considering what we all celebrate here in the United States when we reach that age.  

I'm turning 22 on Tuesday and it's overwhelming me with emotion.  Not because I am "old" by college age standards or because I am becoming more of an adult every day or even because it means I am out of college.  Rather, because of how I feel about birthdays and one in particular that stood out to me a couple of years ago.

It was your typical Friday afternoon at Camp Seafarer for girls; Starter Camp pick-up ended and we counselors raided the mess hall for lunch.  Having it happen to be my nineteenth birthday, I celebrated in the traditional camp way, with a "run around the mess hall" and cake all to myself and friends.  It was special, sweet and short-lived because that afternoon meant having to pack up all of the belongings that I had kept in Cabin 6 and bring them over to Cabin 4, my home for the next four weeks.  After moving everything over, it was finally time for some (well-deserved!) time off, which for me meant a night with my cousin in the neighboring town to camp.  We settled in to our bedrooms for the weekend and spent the rest of the afternoon together swimming in the pool, snacking on junk food and doing laundry while watching TV (a classic time off favorite).  After some time, we realized that we both were hungry and wanted to go somewhere to eat.  We talked about a couple of different possible restaurants, ending up with my favorite one, M&M's Cafe.  The restaurant sat in a refurbished coastal house, with a wraparound porch and the most gorgeous view of the water.  We were enjoying our seafood dinners when two older camp alumni (who my cousin and I knew) came over to say hello.  The weekend was a big one for the town, as it brought together families whose kids had just come from starter camp as well as played host to the dozens of other families sending their kids off to the full session on Sunday morning.  We chatted for a minute or two before they went off to say hi to another family on the back porch of the restaurant.  Topping off the evening we celebrated my birthday with their signature dessert, a chocolate brownie sundae with m&m's on top, before attempting to catch the waitress for our check.  It took us quite some time to flag her down, but when we finally did, she came back with a smile to grab our plates and informed us that the family sitting across the restaurant had picked up our check for the evening.  It was the single kindest gesture a stranger had ever made for me, when upon going to thank them, I realized it was a former friend of both our parents and her husband and kids who were campers at the boys' camp where my cousin worked.  I later learned that the woman was the aunt to one of my own former campers, whose family I have formed a relationship with in the years since.  The family had been informed by the two alumni who came to say hi to my cousin and me that it was my birthday, and the rest was history.  To this day I still remember the feelings of shock, honor and gratitude instilled in me by that one simple act of kindness.

My 19th birthday put a lot into perspective for me that year and changed my life in more ways than I can ramble about in a blog post.  If anything, I really learned what it means to give selflessly and without hesitation, what a meaningful experience can do to create or strengthen a relationship, and that every age has something special to offer.  B (pictured above, blue shirt) and I have always been close due to the one-year age gap keeping us in line with similar interests and the fact that we grew up going to camp together, but we have become significantly closer since then.  As for the camp family, I did not return to Seafarer the following summer in order to pursue a new opportunity, but we have stayed in contact and I love that I have people to see when I find the time to visit their city.

So, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for 22.  I'm ready for a year of new possibilities, new hopes and dreams, and new experiences.  I am full of emotions as a result of this next step and all the ones that have preceded it.  As best described by Taylor Swift, I'm "happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time" and "it's miserable and magical [oh yeah]."  A birthday is a special celebration, and I cannot wait to celebrate it in a few days with the people I love.  Cheers to 22 years, and (hopefully) many more to come.