Sunday, June 24, 2012

white t-shirts

Summer is my favorite season. No other season even comes close, it's a landslide. Part of it is what summer meant and another is what summer means now. As I get older I realize it's more and more important being able to cling on to whatever bits of youth we can wherever we can. And summer is the most acceptable time of living like a kid from our attire of shorts and tank tops and shoes that slip on to splashing your friends in a pool be you 3 or 30. This is the time when it's perfectly acceptable to do nothing, in fact, it's encouraged.

Today Matt went to the movies with our friend Fatz and I went to the pool. My Mexican gringo body in dire need of some sunshine and my exercise loving self wanting to do some laps. I knew the pool would be quiet on a Sunday afternoon so I brought my pool noodle, the latest Sunset Magazine, and the badly needed to be finished advanced copy of Rin Tin Tin (that I finally finished), sprayed some lotion on and arrived to find the pool area was all mine. For like a second. Then a young couple came and the girl irritated me with her constant "stop it!" girl shrieks towards her boyfriend. I judged her instantly feeling superior towards her stupidity and immaturity. I continued my swimming and reading.

An old white man approached the gate and opened the door. He entered with purpose and started fussing with trash cans or something or other and called to the SUV that had parked and it's driver "Come on in Ricardo, I left the gate open." A happy, dark, hispanic man entered followed by three children and a wife. The kids were excited. The littlest one slightly nervous but very happy. The old man went off to the shade and read his newspaper. The family set them selves up around the pool, the mom brought a red cooler, the kids headed towards the water. The youngest one, a boy, wanted in but he couldn't swim. His dad put a safety vest on him and he entered the water and encouraged him to come in. The child entered the water knowing his dad would take care of him. I was actually surprised to see that the man had taken off his shirt and gotten into the water with just his swim shorts because most of the time when Hispanics enter a pool, they enter with white t-shirts. The man was so happy to have his children swim with him. I damn near cried and makes me cry now. I don't know who this happy man was or who this happy family was but now I was happy for them. They must be friends of the old man and the old man, being one who follows the rules stayed with them since they probably didn't live in our complex and that's the rules. Guests must be with tenants at all times. The middle child, a boy was excited about the swimming and the eldest, a girl was skeptical at first but entered rather quickly. Did the old man offer the pool to them? Did Ricardo mention to him how much his children loved swimming and asked if he could maybe let them come use it? Would the old man be so kind to just open the pool for them and let this family use it?

I talk to strangers and overhearing them I knew they spoke my language. I was in the water doing my thing and asked in Spanish if it was the youngest ones first time in the pool. It was. The mom joked that I should teach them how to swim since I looked like I knew what I was doing. A high school swimming class was all I've ever taken but in the kids' eyes, I was friggin' Michael Phelps. The man did a very cautious dive and I overheard him telling his kids he learned to swim in a river where the mud was so dark you couldn't open your eyes under the water.

I alternated between swimming and sunning and after I'd been there awhile I said goodbye to the family and headed home. I'm not sure why watching them made me feel so humbled and emotional. Maybe it was just knowing, and maybe I'm wrong, but they were having an extra special day at a pool and I was having an ordinary one.

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