Jones concert
They’re tearing about the gym in the moments before the recital. Running and sliding, their shoes squeaking on the floor, they collide and bounce off of one another. Smiling, drinking the air, they radiate simple, animal happiness. Every cell in their bodies humming, every cell glowing.
It’s hard to tell when this fun stops and the recital begins, but it begins and Jones is in to it. He waves his snowflake wand about like Thor’s hammer. And then he loses his place, looks lost for a moment. He then catches sight of Rachelle and I and brightens. He smiles and gives a little wave before stepping back into the performance. And this unexpected moment goes deep into me. As if something permanently shifted. To be the anchor and not the kite. That is my life. And Jones pulls himself together and is preforming Santa Shark with the rest of the junior kindergarten class. There he is, wearing his favourite suit, his arms opening and closing like a shark’s jaw, his hunger for the world so limitless, his love for all that it contains, so urgent.
