letting go...

So, I should've snapped a picture, I know that there was at least one taken by someone else but that's not doing me any good right now. This morning I helped drive the Scouts up into the Uintas to back pack the grand daddy lakes, whatever they are. Taylor has been working on packing his huge pack (about thirty-five pounds once we were done) this week and this morning was finally check in time. He was very excited about going, he has some great friends in this ward and he knew from other camp-outs that they would have a fun time. However, I'm kind of struggling with letting him go. It's a week with no parents, and I worry way too much. I don't even worry about normal stuff, I'm sure he'll have enough to eat, I know he'll have fun, but what about that heavy pack? Is he going to be able to carry it without suffering? It's the suffering thing that gets me. Is he going to be warm enough? Is his poncho big enough to keep him dry...maybe I should've water proofed his shoes...how are all of those preservatives going to affect his stomach...is two pair of socks really enough...is he going to be lonely or scared at night? Seriously, I know I'm being ridiculous, but I can't help it. I did do a good job of mostly hiding it infront of Taylor though, but I'm sure he could sense it anyway because he knows me too well. He kept saying, "I promise to use hand sanitizer mom, don't worry", even though I only reminded him ONCE (and that was some serious self control going on right there). Anyway, I know that Tom Page is a phenomenal Scout Master and I trust him with all the boys' lives because he is a very capable and caring man. BUT Taylor is my baby no matter how old he happens to be. So today I'm just trying to keep busy and forget that he isn't here. It's hard, this letting go thing.