Swimming

Friday afternoon. Hot, sticky, NYC summer.
Early pickup. We hot footed across hot streets, eased past the lulling construction site. Workers winding down. We bumped and bashed over paving cracks, stroller swerving, my wrist jarring, his hand clutching toys tight.

Down two floors in double quick time, beeline to the changing room as the hour is nigh. On time, 3 mins before the clock turns 3. Somehow.

He got undressed himself, steadfastly proud. Methodical, no rush.

Pulled his shorts on, I tied the cord. Squezed the fabric between my fingers.

My turn to follow bathing suit suit.

Entry portal heaved open, in we went. Humid tight air. Guzzling you up.

All the past nervousness evaporated.

Under the shower, startled grin as the cold then warm hit.

Turn to face the expanse.

His shorts to his knees.
Hand squeezing tight, fingers wrapped around the breadth of my knuckles.

Other kids splashing. Yelping. Yammering. Pure reverb.

We walked. His choice of entry point.

Down the steps, 1,2,3. I clambered in to hold him steady. Warm bath feel. First order of business wasa a shimmy along the side. Hands on the rounded metallic edge, toes on the tiles, knees bent. I followed along, halfway his small smile of pride is let out, knew it was time to take the lead. A pair of crabs.

But then. Other kids blocked the path. He stopped, waiting, tentative. Mid gaze. Seconds pass.

I asked what’s next. Another pause. Time to shimmy back
Waited at the steps.
Getting out? Going home?

My heart, I admit, began to sink. I had hopes. But whatever role he chose was fine by me. I know this.

A few seconds. I prepared for us to step out.
Instead, ‘can I give you a hug?’
Yes, yes you can.
Off the steps.
Arms went around my neck. Insides of the feet pressed on my hips.
‘Shall we move?’ I asked.
‘Yes… yes.. yes, like this’. Gentle nudge of the foot in my kidneys said it’s time to go.

And so we did. On foot. Him clinging in close. I made stride through the pool, around the edges, through the middle, slipped between all those splashes and yelps. Aqua obstacle course. Spray at every step.

We were near silent. He watched, absorbed. I maintained the hush to match.

And then

‘This is sooo peaceful, dad’.

A phrase I had never heard. A new word. And so perfect.

‘It is, isn’t it’.

Of course, it was not peaceful. At least not on the outside. It was sweaty and noisy and reverberating. 30 people in a mid size pool.

But there, in our place, in our spot, it was peace. Just us, gliding through the water. His little body pressed into mine, each time I turned my head I saw his gaze, dark greeny grey eyes like mine. Noticing what’s there, but also not, noticing something else… maybe noticing just, being. I’ll never know. But I loved to look and see it, imagine it.

For those first few minutes I kept catching an eye on the clock. 1 min, another couple, another 1. Pressure on the knees. Heat around the forehead. Then, no more. No more glances. No more time checks.

We took a break, my pesky football injury had made the ball of my foot ache. 200lbs on a bony bit of the body can do that, I suppose.

Still, he was there, a soft limpet, gentle yet true grip. I can still feel the pads of his fingertips in my mind.

We continued, around and around.

‘This is so peaceful. I love you, dad’

I made a long, deep tonal noise of agreement. Could feel it in both our chests.

Around and around. Feeling sat there. Nothing else needed.

And then

‘I’m done now’.

There was still 20 minutes of the hour slot remaining, not a soul had departed. It felt like the peak time.

But we cared not. He climbed out all by himself, pulled himself up to the floor tiles second time. Subtle triumph gleamed in his eyes. Stood up straight, tall for his age, surveyed the aqua landscape. Chin tilted upward just a touch.

I followed. Not a word. Still none needed. Could feel it.

Long shower, the longest. I stood guard by the curtain. Unrestrained glee at cleaning each body part. I dashed in and out, got dry quick fast. Heared a song cooing. Eventually he was done. Patted down that long slim body. Hair was still a little damp - it felt right to be that way.

The exit route, an afterglow.
Then on with the rest of that hot afternoon.

The next day, we didn’t discuss. I asked, but not much came back.

I knew it was in there, though, subconscious. That incredible processing. Moments that matter.

It was certainly in me. I could feel it.

The day we went swimming. The day we didn't swim. The day we went together. The day we went somewhere else together.

I hoped I’d never forget it.

So here it is. Right here. So I never forget.