A Letter of Love to My Stepson

Hogwarts Day at Camp 2009

Keaton winning Counselor of the Year 2022

 

My stepson, Keaton, now 17 has been spending his summers at a camp in Topanga since he was just a little guy. From a camper to a counselor, this special place nestled in the canyon has provided years of fond memories. As a counselor the role is demanding, a fact I wouldn't come to appreciate completely until midway through the summer.

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Working more than forty hours a week throughout the summer felt like a big commitment for someone his age. But he had a tight knit group of friends who returned each year as counselors and the money wasn't bad either. His days began at 7:00am and often included dressing in some kind of themed attire. He would dash out of the house a short while later, a pirate hat on top of his head as he yelled "Goodbye!"

Around 5:00pm he would come back through those doors. This time he was a shadow, mute and exhausted. I would yell from the kitchen, "Hi Keats!" and in response I would receive a monotone "Hey," as I heard his man-sized feet ascend the stairs to his room. At dinner he would often remain quiet and withdrawn, sometimes even falling asleep in his chair at the table. His neck bent back, mouth slack, dinner growing cold in front of him. We knew the job was tiring but I couldn't help feeling a bit put out that he couldn't bring himself to stay awake for my meal. 

Then midway through the summer my 5 year old daughter was scheduled for her own two week adventure at this summer camp. Kids from all over LA congregated in parking lots across the city to be hauled by school buses deep into Topanga Canyon for days filled with zip line and rock climbing, ariel arts and archery. The camp takes the philosophy that the day begins on the bus and a tremendous amount of effort is made to ensure the journey is fun. Songs, competitions, trophies and decorating the bus all go into turning an hour long trip into an adventure. This is handled in large part by the counselors whose work day commences as the kids arrive to the bus stop. Both the long ride to camp and the long days spent with strangers gave me pause about sending my daughter. But the fact that her brother would be able to look after her on the bus and at camp helped ease my worries.

On the first day of Sloan's camp, Kelly and I took her to the bus stop. She was equal parts nervous and scared. She gripped my hand with a desperation. As we waited for the moment we would say our goodbyes I watched my stepson. 

His camp name is Alto, the Spanish word for tall. He towers at six foot two with a massive collection of brown hair and a radiant smile that disarms adults and children alike. He is commanding in his presence. Campers ran up to him to give him a big hug as they arrived. Parents pulled him aside to share that their child was extra nervous this morning and could he look out for them. A handful of counselors arrived and would check in with Alto, high-fiving and sharing inside jokes as children and families gathered near the bus. Clipboard in hand, he made sure every child was counted and put into the bus all with his easygoing Keaton attitude.

We said our goodbyes to them both and waited on the sidewalk with the rest of the parents. As the bus pulled away we heard Keaton's booming voice from deep inside.

"Who's excited for camp today!" he yelled full of an enthusiasm I couldn't imagine mustering at this early hour.

The kids responded with howls and cheers- the sounds of happiness.

"Wave goodbye to your parents!" he yelled as fifty sets of hands reached out the open windows to bid us farewell.

As the rest of the families dispersed, I stood there silently watching the bus move further away from us. My eyes filled with tears as I realized just how much energy, effort and really love my stepson put into ensuring these children had a memorable day. To say that I was moved, well it just doesn't convey all that I felt. A wave of regret washed over me as I recalled how I had given his end-of-day moods a meaning so far from the truth. He was not withdrawn or sullen. He was exhausted. This boy on the brink of manhood was summoning Disney-character levels of energy to make the camp experience meaningful for the campers. He was bringing his absolute best to his work, day in and out and I couldn't have been more proud.

I met my stepson when he was three. He had the same wild head of hair and radiant smile. I have watched him go from little boy to little man, to well… man. That sunny morning in July I came to really understand who he is becoming. A person I am so grateful to know.