It is like walking to the memory lane as I’m eating the distance to Camp Lilac this morning.

Both Chanyeol and I were strangers when we met there for the first time. I was hesitant in my car and he knocked on my window. Then, an introduction happened. Chanyeol was a counselor in a foster home downtown, but his friendship with Lay, the founder of the camp, found him singing for the widowed people in the camp every weekend.

“It’s a place for you to treasure memory— not to forget.” He pointed out when I thought the camp would offer consolation for me who was broken and hurt from the divorce which I didn’t see when I envisioned my future with Chen. But still, I stayed.

Perhaps, it was because the place had such gravity. Perhaps, I simply had nothing to do after I drove my sons to my parents’ place. Or perhaps, I wanted to watch him play guitar.

And the first meeting became the second and the second became the third and I lost count.

At Camp Lilac, I found people who had experienced the death of a spouse attending the camp with the heavy heart but later leave with the heart that is so much lighter having learned to view grief, loss and love in a way I never knew. You could be lonely in a crowd, but you could choose to feel this community as your home.

Lay allowed me to volunteer from time to time. I led some aerobics sessions, I ran for errands, sometimes I arranged the flowers in every vase in the camp. I also learned that Chanyeol loved daisy.

“People died every day. We thought we wanted to forget them