Dear Reader,
Last Halloween, my son took part in a figure skating competition. It was a good day, he was concentrated and calm, he walked into the ice rink with a confident smile and came out in the second position, earning a well-deserved trophy, his first one.
The day was just perfect, something to remember indeed! I want to sketch how the day went along.
It was sunny and warm, a sweet Indian summer. I took the day off work and spent the morning doing pleasant activities and chores. My son got out of school at noon, and we had lunch together at home, just the two of us.
From the beginning, I could feel a sense of calm and enjoyment in both of us.
After some relaxation with TV and coffee, we headed to the house of my son’s coach. She is an old friend of mine, a competent professional, and a charming company. We then drove to the arena in Meran, it took a little bit more than an hour, and it was a pleasant drive. Once again, calm and enjoyment are the first words that come to my mind.
At the bar in the ice rink, we took a cosy table, surrounded by hockey memorabilia and a good quote by Nelson Mandela:
Then, after a good cup of coffee, my son and his coach went downstairs to warm up and concentrate. I remained on the seatings, reading patiently.
The performance on the ice was… great! Not exceptional in an absolute sense, but significant because our kid did everything he was struggling with correctly. He was smiling, showing the right posture and attitude, keeping his arms raised. Whatever the other skaters will do, he won the most important competition, the one that sport and life should prepare us for: the one against ourselves.
We were also able to get a good video of the performance, courtesy of the cameraman filming the event. There is no way to match what a professional with the right camera can do!
In the end, after the prize ceremony, we were left to deal with a beautiful glass plaque, a good glass of Lagrein wine and a funny pic!
So, what could happen to make that day even more perfect than it already was? Hint: it was not the trip back home when we were just my son and me, and exchanged tender words.
Strange as it may sound, it was when the plaque slipped for just a moment from the hands of the kid, it hit the table, and a small shard of glass was chipped from it.
He was displeased, but only for a moment, as kids have the uncanny ability to recover immediately after a seemingly “crucial” loss. I was not: while I was examining the shard, and let it fell on the floor from the table, I realised that that small incident was what would seal the day permanently in my memory.
I will forever remember that day because I will think about the trophy, the shard, the plaque hitting the table. From that instantaneous “crack”, as if a hypnotist were snapping his fingers, I will remember the tabletop, the wine, the goalkeeper mask, the red colour of the floor, the sunny day, the trip back home the inception of this post… What the trophy will forever lack in glass, I will forever keep in my memory.
I think I have a better understanding of the Japanese art of Kintsugi now. Treating “breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise” (Wikipedia) can really be a way of remembering and honouring the history behind an object. By extension, I suspect that human interactions can undergo a similar treatment: often the process of re-building a relation is the most significant part to remember and hold dear.
Until next time, I will try harder to mine memories and gold from cracks.
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