Camp Kesher is a four-day Jewish (Reform) family camp hosted by Camp Sealth on Vashon Island.

I was dreading it.

We went because our religious school pushed it, and David announced he wanted to go. David has not wanted to go to any camps of any sort, so I jumped on this. Of course, David freaked out later in the summer and decided he didn't want to go, but too bad, we had put our money down, I had promised Rose, we were going.

It actually turned out to be a fabulous experience, everything you'd want in a family camp--relaxing, lots of time away from the kids, time with the kids with fun things to do, gorgeous setting, welcoming people, and a reasonable amount of sleep. But enough of the good stuff, let me tell you my concerns and fears.

Concern: This was our 7th trip of the summer. That's just too many trips.

This is true. I was not looking forward to this trip partially because I didn't want to go on any trips. I did not want to find the mittens, check the bug spray supply (which I ended up forgetting), squash the sleeping bags in the car, and make sure we had a book on cd. I wanted to go to jazzercise, write poetry, and prepare for my job, which starts Thursday.

Packing turned out not to be so bad because we had everything left out from Rainer, and I only had to prepare three lunches, snacks for five days, and David's dinner/lunch alternative. That's nothing compared to what I usually have to put together. I managed to squeeze in jazzercise before we left, and because John didn't go, I had a lot of unpacking help when I got back. So the rush factor was mitigated.

Fear 1: I would be strapped down and forced to practice Judaism all week.

It's reasonable to assume that if you go to a Jewish camp, there's going to be a lot of Jewish--Jewish prayers, Jewish services, Jewish food, Jewish secret handshakes. I don't mind, in fact, embrace, a certain level of Jewish practice--a certain low level. But I was afraid I would be forced to mumble in Hebrew for hours on end or sit through someone else deep meaningful spiritual experience, not feeling it.

My sister had promised me she never went to services at camp and tons of people sat around playing mahjong. She said it was ok to go to Jewish camp and not practice Judaism or attend any of the scholar sessions, but I still had this image of me trying to sneak out of the room once the praying started and someone grabbing my arm and yanking me back in.

My sister was right. No one harassed me or even tried to convince me to go to services. Only one person harassed me about not going to a scholar session, and I know him from Swarthmore (Steve Silks), so it felt more like an intellectual issue than a Jewish one. David, Julia, and I played yahtzee up in our cabin during Friday night services. I actually wanted to go to that one but not with David. And after that, I, and many others, sat on the beach and watched the waves while Shabbat, havdalah, and healing services swirled around us.

There were only two prayers I had to do--blessing the food before and after meals. I knew the before one, but the after one--birkat hamazon--was totally foreign to me. When did that become de rigueur in Reform Jewish circles? One friend told me it had been around when she went to Jewish camp as a child. It definitely had that camp feel, lots of hand motions and table pounding. Since it only lasted five minutes, I could handle it. The first time David saw the teenagers pound the table his eyes grew wide with amazement and delight. I said, yes honey, yes you too can make all the hot cocoa cups jump if you do it in Hebrew.

Fear 2: My choosing not to join in would be offensive and disrespectful to the rest of the participants.

I didn't want to harsh everyone else's buzz. Maybe they were all on fire for community, spirituality, and intellectual engagement, and there I go again, ditching. Again, not a problem. Many many people took the week-end as a time to walk on the beach, play backgammon, or read. When I go to aikido camp or dance camp, that's all I do all week-end. That was obviously not the expectation here.

Fear 3: David would refuse to go to kids' camp.

This was not an unwarranted fear. David refused any after school activities and any camps this summer. I have visions of having to walk away from him as he cried and screamed, like I had to do first day of Sunday School last year.

Well, he surprised the heck out of me. He loved every minute of kids' camp. It probably helped that he had two teen-age male counselors who were up for wrestling and piggyback rides. He raved about the canoeing, the hikes, ga ga; even Israeli dancing and singing got the big thumbs up. He didn't adore kids' services, which happened Saturday morning, but he went. He knew no one in his group and he had a blast.

Fear 4: David would not eat.

Again, not an unwarranted fear. We've done very well turning Rose into a normal eater, but we have not made the same effort/had the same success with David. I was so worried about this that I contacted the camp staff, who assured me I could bring special food for my kid. So, I did. I packed the fixings for cheesy rice. And then I only had to pull it out half the meals. He ate the toasted cheese sandwiches make with American cheese. (Rose and I didn't.) He had some pasta; no problem with a hot dog; and the breakfasts of cinnamon toast, waffles, and French toast were all good. He got into drinking a lot of milk, and I figured two glasses of milk, a roll, and a half of banana--good to do. There was also hot cocoa available at every meal, and I said yes.

While we are on the subject of food, the gluten-free attractive alternative was exactly that. In the case of the waffles, even better. The cobblers sans crust weren't quite sweet enough, but if that's your only complaint. . .

The camp food was fine. There tend to be lots of options, so I eat more than I planned. But I also walk miles every day. The salad bar and the oatmeal bar were excellent. So, we all ate well.

Fear 4: My back would go out.

My back went out last week. It went out for an entire week, and I was pretty freaked out about it. You know, it hurt, and I was partially disabled. I got it back in, managed to go camping at Rainer on my heavenly cot, but feared the effects of bad camp mattresses. I actually brought my cot to camp just in case but then couldn't be bothered hauling it up the hill. My back went out the first morning, and I had some trouble getting from Blueberry Hill down the trail behind Misty Mountain, but it did pretty well after that. I kept my backpack light.

Fear 5: Late bedtimes, bad sleep, grumpy miserable children

Days one and two, we got to sleep by 9:00 and woke at 7:00. Not bad for my kids. Well, there was the 5:45 wake up, but I demanded everyone go back to sleep. Day three went later, and the grumpies started up the following morning. Basically though, the kids were so tired and the night so dark that I didn't get much complaining about bedtime.

Fear 6: Camp Sealth would not welcome me home

I was a camper at Sealth (the setting for this camp) for 10 years and a counselor for 3. It was my spiritual home. Ever since I've left, I have had a reoccurring anxiety dream: I am back at camp, I no longer belong, and I can't find the road out. So on this visit I worried I wouldn't fit in or camp might have shrunk, gotten ordinary, wouldn't be as magical.

Still magical. I think it is the second most beautiful place on earth, after Rainer. All the lines were still there: the long porch onto Rounds Hall, the Trail of Happy Feet curving toward Sylvan theater, the sand, the Sound, the horizon. Maybe because I knew the place better than most people there, I felt like an insider. And the Sealth staff were just as they should be: playful, engaged, organized, competent. I felt easy in their presence.

So all my fears relieved.

I haven't mentioned Rose. She had a fabulous time. She too loved kids' camp--making up skits for the talent show, bouldering, decorating Shabbat candles, singing. During the afternoon sessions, the kids and I did tye-die, went canoeing, fishing, and Rose went swimming. In the evenings, we played on the beach in the sunset.

So, if I wasn't going to services or scholar sessions, what did I do my four days at Camp Kesher? Wrote poetry. I wrote every time the kids went off to their activities. I sat on the beach, my camp chair facing the water, and wrote. I think I booked 10-12 hours. I didn't write anything brilliant, but I wrote, which is what a poet is supposed to do. I came back feeling energized; I came back feeling authentic.