What I See

I'm cheating today. Today was the day for the Clean Water Festival and...well, I'm speechless. It's the end of an era. The last time I have to do that. So I'm cheating and posting my column as it appeared in the Owen Sound Sun Times today. Forgive me.

There are days when I wish I had a camera with me everywhere I went. When I see so much that I will never get back and I think ‘This. Right here. This is what I’m supposed to see.’ Today was one of those days.

First thing in the morning. Driving down 10th Street hill, stuck halfway up behind a line of 9 am traffic. I looked to my right and saw a young woman and a young man in the car beside me. He was staring straight ahead, his face set and miserable. She was turned in her seat, fully facing him. Watching him unblinkingly, her face full of things he couldn’t see. She loves you, I thought. Just turn around and look – you’ll see.

At Dufferin School in the morning. Jack standing in the line-up after the bell has rung, dressed for Spirit Day in head-to-toe green and gold, right down to a crazy hat. He is taller than most of the other boys in his class. He is already broad shouldered – something I hadn’t noticed until just now – and I think maybe he is a little older than I see sometimes. He comes to crouch in front of my friend’s little two year old, his face kind. “Don’t you recognize me, Sarah?” he whispers when she doesn’t smile back. He pulls his hat off . His voice is so gentle it breaks my heart. “It’s ok Sarah, look...it’s just me. Jack.” Sarah smiles.

And I see in that moment the man I am helping build. I watch him turn a little into something new, something older and wiser and even a bit sweeter. It’s only five seconds of time, but I see it.

Later in the afternoon, when I’m writing at Harrison Park. There is a young mom with her son at the new playscape. I don’t know her, but I know her. She is very young – maybe only 19 or so – and she is wearing all of the wrong sort of things. A sparkly top and tight jeans. Lots of black make-up that looks like it might be from the night before. She is there with her new boyfriend, and I watch her play with her little boy for show. I see it’s for show. I see her glance over her shoulder to see if her boyfriend is watching. He isn’t – he’s smoking a cigarette and texting someone, which I loathe.

I watch her play with her son. And I see the moment, the very moment, when she starts playing with him for real. When they are playing tag and he starts to catch her a little. And her laugh becomes real. They run in short stops and widening circles. They collapse in the grass. Her little boy reaches up and cups her face in his chubby hands. She kisses his hair. And I get to see her love him in a new way for the very first time. And I think, I bet they’ll be alright now. I bet the boyfriend won’t seem like such a big deal now. They’ve let each other in.

After school, Ben and Callum’s football game. I watch from the sidelines, not understanding much as usual. But I’m there. I’m there. Ben won’t play in this game – it’s only for the seniors – but he is carrying around a clipboard and a pencil so I guess he feels important. I hear the coach call out ‘Ben!’ near the end of the game, the score so tight no one can breathe. I see Ben’s whole body tense, I feel him thinking, This is it, this is it, this is it. ‘Ben – throw me your pencil!’ Ben slumps a bit. Then rebounds, squaring his shoulders, determined not to give up hope that some day, he will be at the bottom of that pile of legs and shoulders and sweat. Holding the ball tight in his arms, the game won on his back. Callum comes off the field, strutting past his brother a little. But smiles too, friendly. He’s learning.

Jack and Nathan lie spread eagle in the field behind me. I watch them over my shoulder. They are whispering things back and forth not meant for my ears. They are pointing at clouds, their hands sometimes behind their back. Nathan swings his legs scissor-like for a minute and Jack laughs. They are feeding each other something I can’t give them. They are cementing something for later.

I didn’t have a camera at all today. But I don’t think I missed a thing.