He watched differently than I did.
Caleb saw things before they happened.
“Watch the slot receiver. He’s crossing over the middle.”
Or,
“The line isn’t holding. They’re going to give the tackle help.”
Or,
“Look at that route, Mom. Did you see it?”
Half the time, I didn’t.
But I watched him.
That was enough.
About four months after the accident, Caleb asked me something.
“When I’m stronger, can we go to a game?”
I said yes before thinking about what it would cost.
Then I checked.
Accessible seats weren’t cheap.
Especially good wheelchair-accessible seats near the field.
So I started saving.
I stopped buying lunch at work.
Canceled a streaming subscription.
Cut anything unnecessary.
Then I sold a silver bracelet my mother had given me for my thirtieth birthday.
I received $240 for it.
Eventually, I had enough.
Two accessible seats near the field.
