Owning Up

Our Saturday morning rituals truncated for the summer, we have foregone the music lessons until the fall, but we still squeeze in our lunch pizzas with my cronies and yesterday, one of the less regular attendees in the circle asked Gabriel if he had a piggy bank and after a confirming nod, handed over a toonie.

Prior to that, my inquiry about whether Gabriel was ready to get on the train was met with some excitement, even if it did not entail a stop for a snack at Starbucks. The view of the city from the train still holds its command over Gabriel, and of course, there is a bit of local colour or grit on the train that he does not encounter from a backseat of the car.

When we arrived on the platform and he punched our ticket for the ride, Gabriel gravitated toward a boy who was a year older but happened to be playing with an Optimus Prime Transformer toy and wearing a baseball cap, just like Gabriel - check, check.  The two of them fell into easy conversation and when that happens as spontaneously as it does, about ten minutes passed before they got around to exchanging names.  When we boarded the train, they sat together.  The boy's father had little in common with me other than the boys and the proximity of their ages.  He was dressed in colours that seemed dark and muted by neglect or disregard. He had a large tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and for the moment preoccupied himself with his cellphone, something I am not above but wasn't doing this time around as Gabriel was inviting me to explain my affection for the long-gone Montreal Expos as we walked to the station.

As the train headed downtown, Gabriel and the boy continued their conversation and as it unfolded, the boy felt the need to raise the point that the police had taken his Dad's car for no apparent reason. The father in measured, resigned tones indicated that the car was taken because he had a suspended license. There was not a moment of disrespect for authority or the suggestion that he was hard-done-by or deserved or needed a break or express anything to indicate that anyone else was to blame.  My respect for the man was moved to the level he deserved and for the moment I discarded the narrative I was writing about a weekend father putting the time in.  He was setting a great example for his son and for myself.  It is easy to forget the importance of setting an example, especially when it comes to responsibility.

So the next time there is an opportunity to avoid taking myself down a notch in my son's estimation of me, I will remind myself of this man and father who acknowledged reality rather than trying to revise it to suit me in the short term.