Growth Spurts and Tough Talks to Ponder and Forego

One of the highlights of each fall has been "school" pictures of Gabriel that have been taken at his daycare.  The proofs from this year's efforts sit in front of me and in the place of the unconscious playfulness from the sets when Gabriel was on the cusp of 2 and then 3 years of age there are two options to choose from which are a stark contrast from those previous sets.

Apart from the fact that there are merely two carefully posed shots instead of a set of nine which were enchanting with their spontaneity, there is the suggestion that Gabriel has stretched out and that there is a leanness which indicates baby-fat has been shed and there is that boyishness seemed to be looming, but now is clearly evident.  In previous years the shots included moments of closed-eyed laughter and an impish smirk that suggested a bit of interaction with a photographer who knew how to capture the age group before them in all their innocent beauty.

Self-portrait, feet. Gabriel Hanlon, October, 2015.

As Gabriel approaches 4, the suggestion in the pictures is that he is more ready to engage with people and take direction - albeit from a photographer.  The poses show more evidence of a cue or request being acknowledged than a playfulness that was deferred to when he was younger.  The shots seem a little stiffer and no where near the poignancy of the shots from last year and the year before.  These shots, commemorating 2015 and his fourth autumn mark a different phase.  Much of what has happened seems to indicate that as well.

Two days ago when I spoke to him on the phone there was an attentiveness to the conversation or a clarity to his train of thought that made me think that time jumped ahead a year rather than a few hours since I had dropped him off at daycare.  Apart from that, he flipped the bird for the first time during Thanksgiving dinner, an indication that his surroundings are not as insulated and certain as they used to be. As he approaches school age, there will be more and more occasions where his peers initiate him to those less innocent skill sets and the hard conversations begin.

There are other hard conversations to weigh as well and with those the reminder that he is still a few years away from memories that will stick with him. One of my rituals with Gabriel from as far back as "the bucket stage" has been to take him to pizza with friends on Saturdays.  He has graduated from the bucket to his own place at the table and a pizza of his own.  Earlier this week one of those friends from that Saturday ritual, Mike, a stoic retired train engineer who particularly bonded with Gabriel, passed away after a few years of health struggles and informing us each Saturday that he was tired.

As I ponder breaking this news to Gabriel, I am inclined not to bother.  During Mike's final illness over the last few months, Gabriel never expressed concern about his absence and I wondered if it was a case of him not recalling Mike in his absence.  As I lean toward not sharing the news with him, I suspect that he has already forgotten Mike, though I hope there may be some trace recall of the particular fondness that they had for one another and an occasion where Gabriel asks after him and allows the opportunity to recall a friendship and discuss a simple reality of the passing of time.

The Lad and the Camera

Things did not exactly go as planned. Plan A was to take him to a landmark that he would remember (or be reminded) was the first place or thing he photographed. He was not in the mood to walk to the modern red bridge that he was so excited to see whenever we take the train downtown. Plan B quickly deteriorated when he got more focused on eating all of the snacks I had packed for the day. There was not going to be a perfect moment to introduce him to the experience of capturing the world as he sees it. At the point Plan B filled my thoughts with the challenge of getting lunch into him after he ate all his snacks, I retreated to a more perfunctory introduction to the camera.

After getting him set on how to properly hold a point and shoot with a few simple mantras about holding it with both hands, keeping still and keeping the wrist strap on, he set out. After being the subject of enough baby shots to develop a dislike for the camera, he had one to call his own and he was off.

Once he got the hang of it, he was eager to get moving and find what else he could photograph. We wandered around the city parks, shooting construction sites, of course, but also fallen leaves en masse and in solitude as autumn sets in on us. Once he got into it, I was able to tell him little things like "get closer" and "look carefully," foundations of whatever progress he will make over time with the camera.

At the moment, he is amusingly unfiltered with the camera. He started taking pictures of passers-by, while I, who loathes invading anyone's space pleaded, "Ask first! You have ask first!" He even snapped a shot of his urinal when I finally broke him of his quest for "one more shot" and got him into a washroom. All in all it was a good start to something I had not hoped to get him into until he was big enough to lug the DSLR I've had waiting for him. For now, he is happy to know the shutter button and the on/off switch and to look back on what he took.

For now, it is a pleasure to ease him into one of my passions and hopefully get him familiar with the patience, presence and attentiveness that the camera has rewarded me with over the years. Hopefully those microlessons about observation and patience will inform other things but in the meantime there is the joy and wonder of an uncensored view of the world from a height of 40 inches. Onward.