My husband and I come from very different backgrounds. He grew up in an apartment in the Bronx. I grew up in rural upstate New York.
His parents sent him to sleep-away camp for two months every summer.
My parents had nieces and nephews.
My husband had color wars with other bunks.
I had cousins. Lots and lots of cousins.
Cousins living next door. Cousins at my grandmother’s farm. Cousins who came from out-of-state to visit every summer. Cousins who visited from the city for week, then I stayed with them in the city for a week. Cousins (and aunts & uncles) who played marathon games of Annie, Annie Over when the sun was out and Hide-and-Go-Seek after dark.
He has memories of camp.
I still have cousins.