This past weekend, Leo participated in Ride A Wave—that glorious all-volunteer supported and inclusive surfing, boogie boarding, and kayaking extravaganza for people with disabilities. For our dude, this yearly "going surfing" is an annual immersion in bliss.
While Leo looks forward to his yearly Ride A Wave day for months, this time he was so excited that he woke up several hours before the morning fun started (props to my tag-team partner Seymour for being up for those several hours; Leo's boundless energy and stamina are ideally matched to companions who have had a full night's sleep).
Leo sang happily as the two of us drove to the beach (Allan Sherman's "When I Was A Lad," "Early One Morning," and "Baby Beluga" are currently on heavy rotation.) Once we arrived at the Santa Cruz Wharf, we were paired with the two volunteer "Buddies" who became Leo's support team on the beach—helping him get into his swim suit, signing him up for events, whooping it up every time he caught a wave. The Buddies tend to be good eggs, but these two were especially great: intuitively following and respecting my cues about interacting with Leo and keeping him safe—and reciprocating the happiness Leo exuded all morning long.
As I told one of his Buddies, getting to spend the morning watching Leo in a state of perpetual delight because of people who not only volunteer to help him have the best day ever at the beach by his definition, but who are as happy for him as I am, is the emotional equivalent of a spa day for me.
But that wasn't why I cried.
Again, let me explain. We've always had a great time at Ride A Wave day; Leo because I'm fairly certain he's a selkie, and me because if my kids are happy then I'm happy. But this year was a special one.
You will need to take my word for what happened as I didn't snap that many pictures and didn't get video (for once, trying not to let my camera get between me and being in the presence of awesomeness), but what the photo below shows is Leo surrounded by a squadron of young wetsuited surf buddies. And what you really can't see is that Leo is doing what he loves the most—bobbing and pogoing in the water. And what made me cry is what happened next.
|[image: Photo of wetsuited Leo and with a circle of wetsuited|
tweens, with a boogie board, in waist-deep ocean waves.]
All the surf buddies spontaneously bobbed and pogo'd with him. Not because anyone told them to—there were no adults or coaches out there in the waves—but because they were in sync with Leo and going with his flow, so everyone was caught up in his irrepressible joy.
Cue my sobbing (while pretending not to be).
That's all I want for our sweet, wonderful guy—for other people to respect how he moves through the world, and approach him without hesitation or awkwardness or pity. I want him to know, viscerally, what it's like to be plugged into that kind of spontaneous human synchronicity. That way, when he encounters people who are yet again awkward, or unkind, or patronizing, he understands that it does NOT have to be that way, and he does NOT have to put up with it. Because he's experienced the way he should be treated, and he know's that's an achievable reality.
Explaining this to his buddies on shore while trying to pretend I wasn't crying was not entirely successful, so I'm telling you, now.
Coda: Leo also got to meet Spiderman during this year's Ride A Wave. For a Spiderverse fan (who also likes to sing "Sunflower," now that I think about it), that's a green straw-level bonus on a day that was already as great as it gets.
|[image: Leo fist-bumping Spiderman at a beach.]|