29 Sep

 We sit on the bench, the noise of the people moving around us making it difficult for me to even attempt rudimentary explanations of where we are. Pictures should have been thought of, of course, yet this event seemed to arrive so quickly. I do not know any of the signs, I cannot think of any reasonable substitutions and I conclude that little good would be done of inventing symbols that he has no context for. All that remains is to watch and hope that I can honestly say to the company who donated the tickets how grateful I am and that he enjoyed the show.

    He clambers onto my lap, pressing the back of his head against mine, moving my hands up to cover his ears as the show begins with a flurry of noise and movement. Shouts, cheers and claps surround us. I hug him tightly, feeling him calm and try and persuade him to clap along. He stays still, not moving, not talking, his face betraying no sign of his thoughts. The interval comes and I take him to have his photo taken with the Spiderman acrobat, getting him to look at the camera proves impossible, he sits in front of the acrobat and turns to the side, looking away, one arm raised in front of him, one hand dangling high.

 “Did you like Spiderman?” I ask him. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t seem to have heard. We go and sit down and the second half commences. This time he is feeling braver, wants to sit on the bench next to me and signs “cow” at the two people dressed in a bull suit. He sits quietly and calmly, a contrast between the children near him who shriek and laugh and roar with approval or disbelief. I take a look at his face, see him staring avidly at the show in front of him, everything seems internal.

 We walk out of the tent and I bend down to him.

 “Did you like that?” I ask him and get no answer. I try a different tactic.

 “Mummy and Tom have been to the …?”

 “Circus!” he informs me. I knew he knew.

 I place my hand inside my coat pocket and look at the photo, see my son, seemingly oblivious to why he is there and then I look more closely at his hand. Raised high, fingers bent and slightly arched, the sign for “spider”.

 “Tom,” I ask him, showing him the picture, “who’s that?”

 “Aaah ‘PiderMan!” he tells me.

  “Spiderman and Tom” I inform him in return. I move to place the picture back and he holds onto it, refusing to release it. One of his hands grabs hold of mine and he grabs one of my fingers, using it to point at part of the photo. His mouth moves into a grin and then he giggles.

 “BLUE!” he shouts out, his face beaming with joy. It’s his favourite colour. “Red! Aaah ‘PiderMan!”

 He’s happy, I’m happy. We walk home and look for spiders’ webs upon the bridge.  

4 Responses to “Happiness.”

  1. Kev September 30, 2007 at 07:02 #

    Thank you 🙂

    I really look forward to your contributions. They’re like a cooling balm.

  2. Elissa September 30, 2007 at 10:59 #

    A beautiful story – just what I needed today, thank you! May we all enjoy “happiness”.

  3. suzanne September 30, 2007 at 13:07 #

    sweet :o)

  4. mandyque October 1, 2007 at 08:00 #

    beautiful, I love how you are so in tune with Tom.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: