Camp Blackberry 2021

It’s that time of year again. Time for Camp Blackberry! We missed it last year over Covid concerns. This year is an abbreviated version for a variety of reasons.

What is Camp Blackberry, you ask? It’s a week in the summer when we have our grandchildren. We hike, swim, bike, do crafts, eat, sleep, and play. We take excursions like the Knoxville Zoo (thank you Mr. Phil) and the Chattanooga Aquarium.

It’s called Camp Blackberry because, well, our name is Black and we raise blackberries so it just seemed logical. We have a camp t-shirt and a logo. We have seven grandchildren but only six can attend. We’re not quite ready for the 18 month old.

We got the idea from Dr. Bob and Sue Ramger, who ran Camp Ramger for many years. I’ve heard from their now grown grandchildren about the memories that were built.

This is the 8^th rendition of CB and it’s a little different. We’ve been at Fall Creek Falls State Park, something we planned to do last year. With vacations limited and our family beach trip cancelled, we wanted to get away for a few days.

It’s a wonderful time and we look forward to it each summer. We are already planning for next year. But where I want to go today is about the role of the grandparent.

I didn’t know but one of my grandparents. My maternal grandmother is the only one that I knew and she died when I was seven. Despite that, I have indelible memories of this proud, statuesque woman. My own children knew all four of their grandparents but not for long enough. Grandparents are important. Not essential, but important.

Grandparents are the ones that get to be concerned only about your happiness. Parents don’t really get to do that. Parents have to worry about grades and performance and behavior and all those sorts of things.

Parents have to worry about getting to practice on time and the character of friends. Parents have to make sure that you are doing your chores, getting what you need to eat, and getting enough sleep. Most of the time, grandparents just get to do the easy stuff, the fun stuff.

I will quickly admit that when I attend the games that my grandchildren play, I’m more interested in it being a positive experience for them. I don’t worry about anything else but that. Are they happy? Are they having fun?

I don’t remember either of those being a high priority when my own kids played sports. I was more interested in hustle and performance. When GK6 was playing t-ball and was told to run for home from third base, I loved that he turned toward the dugout and began looking for his parents (I assume to go home). His parents may not have been as amused by that as I was.

And the officiating….oh my, the officiating. It’s got a lot better since my own kids played. A LOT better. As a grandparent, I worry far less that we just saw a foul or a hand ball. I don’t think twice if someone is offsides or in the lane.

I get that liberty because I have the perspective of old age and thousands of hours of experience. I’m given great latitude to simply enjoy the games because I know that in the big picture, whether one of them wins a championship at age 9 or not will have absolutely no bearing on their ultimate athletic success.

I’m not interested in their team going undefeated or winning the league championship. I’m more interested in knowing that they’re moving, getting better, learning the game. And being happy. As a grandparent, THAT gets to be my first priority.