This story begins at the Knoxville Museum of Art, where I volunteered at the front desk on Friday afternoons. It’s a great gig because you get to be the welcoming, smiling face that people need, and sometimes you get to meet some amazingly wonderful people.
If you’re facing the front desk, there’s a room off to your left we call the Creative Corner, which, primarily, is a room for kids to create their own art. The Creative Corner is equipped with all the requisite stuff: construction paper, popsicle sticks, glue, colored markers, and a vast assortment of other craft supplies that any budding artist would need to make their creations come to life. (It’s also home to a life-sized “LiteBrite that many adults love reminiscing with.”)
Across the street from the museum is a playground, and on any given sunny day, the playground will be covered with kids playing and parents shepherding the kids up the ladders and down the slides. Fortunately for us, the Creative Corner is home to the only public restroom nearby, so we have a parade of kids and parents stopping in to use our facilities and, without fail, they stop to create their own works of art.
Between the kids coming off the playground and those visiting the museum, the room can get quite raucous, which, to me, means the kids are having fun. As a dad, granddad and great-granddad, and much to the chagrin of my coworkers who have to clean up the mess, I encourage the play. After all, all that happiness creates great memories.
So, now that you have a “lay of the land,” let me tell you what happened one day during Spring Break 2024. I was working a Friday afternoon shift and there were the normal myriad of visitors, which included locals taking a break from life, folks in town visiting family, a few tourists in town from other countries, families bringing their kids in for some culture and, of course, the kids and parents from the playground.
All of a sudden, I heard a clamor over my right shoulder and, as I turned to look, a mom and the cutest little brown-haired boy came out of the Creative Corner. The mom thanked me for having them, and as I smiled and told her, “You’re welcome!” the little boy, who was about 5 years old, looked at me and asked, “Mister, do you have a Watcher?”
Now, not having a clue what a “Watcher” was, I was pretty certain I didn’t have one, but, being curious, I asked, “What’s a Watcher?”
The little boy held forth a gray fuzzball with googly eyes and said, “This is a watcher! They make great friends and they’re the best secret keepers, you can tell them anything!” Then, without missing a beat, he added, “Here, you can have this one! I have more!” and he gently placed the Watcher in my hand.
I gratefully accepted his gift.
Now, I must admit, this was not the first nor last gift a child leaving the Creative Corner has given me, and all those other pieces ended up where all great art should end up, prominently displayed on my refrigerator! This gift, however, was different, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it.
Once home, I carefully set my Watcher on my desk, where I smiled every time I saw it. Seriously, how does looking at this cutie not make you smile?
By Sunday noon, I had decided to share this story with my family, so I crafted a text and included the requisite photo. After the inevitable “Aww, how sweet!” comments, the conversation turned more serious. “Have you named it?”
Well, from there, the texts went fast and furious. Everyone had ideas and recommendations until Hannah (she’s always down for a grand emotional adventure) suggested my Watcher be named Gus. Almost immediately, there was unanimous agreement.
Of course, the next major decision was what to do with Gus. After much debate, it was decided that Gus would be partnered with my old blue car, affectionately nicknamed “Blueberry,” which is where Gus remains.
Since Gus became a part of my life, he's made countless trips to the grocery store and more than a few long-distance drives to Atlanta, Nashville, and other points that take 2-4 hours. In all those hours of riding in the car, he's heard many a story, quite a few thoughts, more than his share of secrets, a delusion or two, and, well, everything else.
While I can’t rightfully call Gus a stoic, he truly only has one expression and he uses that one expression quite well and can apply it to almost every situation.
For instance, one day, I'd left my granddaughter's house and, on the drive back home, I looked at Gus and said, “Parents get to watch their kids grow up, but what kids never realize is they also get to watch their parents grow up.” Based on the look Gus gave me, I think I said something profound.
Another day, I was driving back from a friend's, and, as I exited the highway, I informed Gus that I was going to write this story and maybe share a few secrets, so I asked him which of our many secrets I should share. As I pulled up to the stoplight at the end of the exit ramp, I looked over at Gus, and he was sitting there, staring at me with his familiar expression, or perhaps this expression was one of disbelief. I laughed and said, “Okay, so no secrets will be shared!”
See? Two different situations where Gus effectively used the same expression. I'm starting to think Watchers are the best communicators!
And for the record, when I asked Gus which of our many secrets I should share? Well, I had my list, and I thought they were the kind of secrets that we all keep but all want to share, so I hoped Gus would be excited about this story and name my secrets as the ones to tell. Well, you saw the look on his face, so I'm going to follow Gus's advice and not share any of them. After all, I've learned Gus is wise that way, as I imagine all Watchers are.
To the little brown-haired boy, I say, "Thank you! Your gift was super sweet, and I pray you never lose your love, your kindness, or your joyful spirit!" And to the little boy's mom, I say, "You have done well, and please keep doing what you’re doing because you are raising one great human!”
To all of you, I hope someday you have your own Watcher; they really are the best secret keepers!