The smell of the pitch's grass torn from the damp dirt was intoxicating. Her cheeks flushed as she tore after the ball, after her friends. Half time's sweet citrus stung across her lips as a small stitch threaded across her ribs. The other team stole possession, and on a dime, she spun back to her own net. She had know idea what the score was, or whether they were winning or losing. Little Charlie was having the time of her life.
From the bench, Emmanuella waited for her turn to play. Her jersey hung like a robe, tickling her knees. Her giant soccer socks itched. Her eyes focused. Darting back and forth from the play to her sister. Tracking the ball like prey, while observing the body language of the players for visual cues about the game. Specifically Charlie for guidance, of when to move, what was happening and what to do.
A whistle blew, and the game paused while a parent sauntered after an out of bound ball. Without looking back, Charlie wiggled her head to relay why the play had stopped for Emmanuella. The movement was one of many of the sister's secret signals. Charlie closed her eyes, the beaming Sun coloured an ambered fuschia over the back of her eyelids. She let her breath steady, let Spring sit at her nostrils while she savoured the moment, then opened her eyes. From sidelines across the field her mum waved and cheered some inaudible encouragement while her father struggled to hold squirmy baby Jeffry in his arms, and their dog Rosie's pulled at her lease after a vibrant smell. Charlie giggled, she knew this was out of her parent's wheelhouse, and she loved that they made an effort for her.
With the ball retrieved and the whistle blown, the game resumed with a toss. Magema lowered her hand and reached around her husband and son, drawing them close against the cold. In unspoken synchronicity Rosetta circled her people, her lead tethering their legs, pulling them tighter together, and found a comfortable place to rest at their feet. Magema stole the opportunity to place a kiss on her Able's cheek, to the bemoans of their youngest.
She tussled her son's hair, laughed as he grimaced, then rested her head upon her husband's shoulder. Together they swayed while watching their girls. A wave of relief washed over Magema as she registered the unadulterated joy from their daughters in play, through their focus, and smiles. She sighed in relief. Within her boundless love was a cocktail of insecurities that manifested in self-doubt and worry about her choices as a mother. She still struggled with putting her children in soccer. Team sports as an obligation was something she had been adamant about when her and Able first began discussing how they would raise a family. The irony of pushing her children into soccer when she had no interest, and borderline aversion to the game herself, was not lost on her. Playing on a team had been mandatory for Magema in her childhood. And it was no secret that she had hated it.
It's not that she had never had fun running around, she held many joyful memories playing with friends, and in contest. Overall, sports had simply felt redundant, and never stimulated her. Not like it did for others. At times, that had alienated her. Made her feel alone. Especially in comparison to other children. The most troubling was a unsubstantiated feeling of disconnection with her father, who was a fanatic, and avid player himself. It had been him that forced her to play sports as a child. Despite Magema's protests when she was young, as an adult she held enormous gratitude for his adamance.
While it had taken years for her to discover, and admit, her father's instincts had had merit. His reasoning was sound. He insisted that lessons learned in team sports were important. In work, in school, in life. To pass the ball, the confidence to take shots, learning to accept losses, and trust teammates. The honour in being a good sport regardless of the outcome of the game. To celebrate each other's accomplishments in excellence regardless of which team you were on. And he had been right.
As an adult Magema found those who did not know how to play on a team excruciatingly evident. That didn't mean that those with an athletic history automatically had everything sorted, far from it. But it did build a strong, well rounded foundation. There were the obvious health benefits, the physical, the mental. The spiritual ones less obvious. The social, the philosophical, the fortitude- when there was appropriate cultivation and conversation, were all there. A healthy body garnered a healthy mind.
It didn't stop with sports. She looked up at her Able, her person, and squeezed him tighter. She knew she was as safe beside him as he was by her. Which helped erase some of the relentless doubts of her parental decisions and competence that stormed her shores from time to time. Together they encouraged their kids to explore all avenues life had to offer, enrolling them in a myriad of courses, and extracurricular activities. What they deemed obligatory, sport, music, and language, they made sure to engage in themselves. They saw it not only as their duty as their children's stewards to life, but opportunities for them as well. Shading the activities not as unfair expectations, but bonding activities together. Be it art classes, als, and jiu-jitsu as a family, or Able finally learning piano and music theory with the kids, and Magema reigniting her French. They grew as a unit. They learned together.
Under the nourishing Spring sunlight, Magema took solace that their girls were smiling. That they were having fun. That she was further from they tyrannical parent then her insecurities would have her believe. Charlie was a natural, gifted player, and thrilled to kick the ball around. Emmanuella an unexpected force in her own right. She brought a ferocious tenacity to the game. Magema and Able often debated where the source of her indomitable will came from. They'd seen her focused intensity before and suspected it was fueled in part by a motivation to defeat the stigmas of her impairment. Though with soccer, there was a different unbridled love for the game and her team. Different then Charlie's. It was easy to see her adoration for her sister. A joy in the activity, and loyalty to Charlie, more than sport itself. Motivated by indulging in their connection, utilizing the field as a conduit. Once it had been noticed the evidence was everywhere.
As Emmanuella was substituted back into play it was as if a switch flicked within the sisters. They're movements and positions became synchronistic like a hunting flock of birds. As though we were governed by one mind. The two moved with the grace of ballet dances, save for frantic silent hand signals hovering over their shoulders, and by their waists. If it weren't for their pigment no one would question whether or not the same blood flowed through their veins.
They moved with such fluidity it stunned most parents to find out of Emmanuella's disadvantages. When they first began to play together Charlie had been amazed with how observant her sister was. She played with her eyes wide open, seeing more than most heard. Finding their own language had been a game within itself. They worked in tandem, translating worlds that were less obvious to the other. A game they both could win.
Tears rose to the edge of Magema's eyelids watching her girls play. It wasn't only in awe at their talent, or shared passion. But just how wonderful Charlie was with Emmanuella, how boundless and inviting her love was to the little girl who had been but a stranger in the years prior. How determined and unhindered Em was herself. The play continued down to the opponents net, when Magema and Able noticed in unison something miraculous. Not one but two of the other girls mimicked Charlie's hand movements and Emmanuella fired the ball to them without hesitation. Forward, back, a quick pass to another, and a kick to the net!
The goalie made the save as Magema caught her sob in the back of her throat. She squeezed Able's hand as he pulled her closer, neither breaking their gaze from the field. While she hadn't understood what the signals actioned between the players, she knew they meant that her girl had scored a community around her.
thanks for reading!
-Mr. Write