Monday, April 30, 2012
This is where my son works as a lifeguard and swimming instructor, a state of the art Olympic sized pool with floors that can be raised and lowered, sliding panels that can divide the pool into different competition areas, and competitive diving platforms at one end, where you can flip a switch and the pool churns the water under the diving boards, so that a diver slices into a soft foam of bubbles instead of a hard unforgiving sheet of water. When we visited him at college two weekends ago, he showed us around, pointing out all the technological marvels that made this recently completed world-class athletic center on his campus exciting to him. "When you call me and I'm at work, I'm sitting right there," he said, pointing to the desk from which the supervising lifeguard takes in the whole sweep of the pool. He's a track and field athlete, but perhaps water sports are about to find their way into the mix. He was recently recruited to join the dive team. This child is all about the efficient and graceful movement of bodies in space, which is mildly ironic given his mother's physical limitations. We live through our children. If we are careful, they will feel the freedom and exhilaration of that and not the burden.