I wish every day was brain injury camp

I love the people at brain injury camp … the campers, the counselors, the staff, everybody.

I love watching what freedom does to persons with brain injuries. It literally sets them free to be themselves.

Last year at the first camp I attended, I wanted to cry the first day because I was so overwhelmed by the emotions of hearing stories of accidents, violence, lapses in judgment, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The list goes on …

Last year at the conclusion of the first day, I thought I wasn't cut out to continue doing this series of coping books, the next three volumes, one each on strokes, brain injuries, and brain tumors-brain cancer. I thought I wasn't strong enough.

The next morning, I woke up with an infusion of strength more powerful than a thousand bowls of Wheaties. I couldn't wait to get to camp to see these individuals again! I realized that I had absorbed and processed a lot of emotions all within a short period and that "I" would be okay.

And the second and third days of brain injury camp last year, I was talking and laughing with individuals who were so grateful to be "normal" for a week. How they lifted and educated me! I couldn't wait until next year!

And next year is here! I recognized many of the returnees and saw some new faces. I love John, who stopped and looked at me as I got out of my car. "I know you! Wait, now don't tell me." I could see him searching the many file cabinets of his brain looking for my name. I laughed as he made a goofy face and asked for a small clue. I waved my pen in the air. "You're the writer! Duh, you'd think I had a brain injury."

It was okay finally revealing my name, and all day long, every time we'd see each other, he'd say, "Monica!" I'd respond, "John!" When I left for the day, I said I'd see him tomorrow and we both had a good laugh over the fact that we'll probably go through the same thing the next morning.

And that was okay.

In fact, it was beautiful.

It was equally beautiful seeing these campers, counselors and staff literally embrace each other this magical week as the persons with brain injuries are "normal" in everyone's eyes. No one is staring at them when they walk or talk funny. No one is steering their children away from the weird looking person in the wheelchair. No one is judging or ignoring them.

What's the song that says something about wishing every day was Christmas because it's such a wonderful day …

I wish every day was brain injury camp … in the REAL world, OUR world.

Now, that's heaven on earth.