A Magical Time

I had never had a better or more magical time than when I went camping with my family,  There was a freedom in the air and the cool breeze kept tempers at an all-time low.  I never have been close to my father because he would fly off the handle at any given moment.  Except for when we went camping.  But he would never go camping with us unless it was his idea. 

I tiptoed around the house waiting for the next time we would go camping.  No one ever knew what would set him off on a rant or why he would choose to take us out into the woods.  I wondered if it was the fresh air that cleared his senses, but I wondered if it was the fact he finally didn’t have to work so hard.  I seesawed back and forth on whether he enjoyed his job or not. 

The last time we had gone camping as a family was when I was fourteen.  I was almost to the point where I would rather spend time with my friends, but I wondered how many camping trips we had left as a family so I grudgingly packed my bag.  I knew it wasn’t going to be a peaceful trip the moment we pulled up to our usual campsite.  My work father came out as he saw my uncle.  And this time there was no going back.  We could never rebury the past.