Seth

                                                                                         

“You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me
You've got troubles, well I've got 'em too
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you
We stick together and we see it through
You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me” --from ‘Toy Story’, Randy Newman

Seth jumps out of his mother’s car before she can park it, and runs over to join Cliff and me. Arm in arm and smiling, they walk together into the building and head down the stairs to their track and field practice. I follow behind, and, watching their progress towards the gym I’m struck by their similar profiles: each one is about five feet tall, stocky with slight bellies and muscular calves. They are both, in typical “mom speak”, adorable. Theirs is a relatively new friendship, slow to start but very promising. All during the practice, they never leave each other’s side, except when it is one or the other’s turn to race. It’s beginning to look like what one might call a “bromance”, a true friendship between a couple of guys.

We first met Seth almost three years ago at Special Olympics bocce ball practice. That first summer the friendship hadn’t really taken hold. It was a matter of timing. Neither of them attended every session, so they didn’t get to know each other well. Last summer, there was a slight shift in the way they interacted. It was enough for the breakthrough: Seth decided Cliff was pretty cool. Besides, Seth had a stubborn insistence on taking his turn last and Cliff didn’t have a problem with that. Seth, in turn, didn’t seem to mind Cliff’s interminably excessive windup before the throw.

When their birthdays came around, they invited each other to celebrate. Now, with the start of Special Olympics track and field, there will be more regularity to the get-togethers, a time they can look forward to every Monday evening. Each practice holds that extra something, beyond the fun of the sport itself. Seth’s friend Cliff will be there; Cliff’s friend Seth will be there.

As practice comes to an end, the two of them walk around the gym to cool down before the coach’s instructions. Vickie, Seth’s mom, and I sit in the stands cheering them on. We watch as they round each corner and I’m reminded of a sepia-toned greeting card, the one where two people stand with their backs to the camera, photographed as they gaze at something off on the distant horizon. It feels a little bit like a Hallmark moment and I can’t stop smiling. I have wished so hard for Cliff to have a very best friend since we moved here fourteen years ago. A friend who likes Cliff for the person he is, without expectation of conversation or a need for anything more than Cliff is capable of giving. It turns out, neither one exactly has a gift for gab. Somehow, though, they “get” each other!

Friendship sometimes rests on a tenuous thread, especially in a world such as Cliff’s and Seth’s, where parents are in control of arranging outings, and work, schedules, prior commitments, and timing is everything. It’s essential for the moms to like each other as well, because our kids aren’t independent. But the desire to belong is a fundamental need of every human being. We’re not meant to be alone, and there is, in friendship, a happiness factor that one can’t get any other way. Cliff and Seth are no different than other people in that respect. It is a need as essential as food, drink, and shelter. There is a poverty of the soul experienced by people living without friendship or camaraderie with another human being. It’s the reason parents like me will go to the ends of the earth, and be relentless in the search for our kids’ place in the world, especially when they may have difficulty trying to find it themselves.

Such beauty there is, everywhere I look—pink chiffon, white crinkly crinoline, sparkles on new snow, a blood-red moon just settling into the orange-pink sky, a blooming cherry tree about to burst its blossoms, cascades of light on a fireworks night in summer, frosted chocolate cupcakes. Now, added to this hopeful list are the images of Cliff and Seth running, walking, strolling breathless around the track, arm-in-arm on a perfect Monday night.