This is real.
Before he started telling me where Calgary was on the map of the world, instead of telling him I knew and that we had a birthplace in common, I wish I had told him I’m sorry for the times I had told him off. That it was okay for an eleven year old to get into arguments as long as he didn’t hurt anyone.
Before he handed me that lunchbox, that chartpaper, that waterbottle, that plastic bag, I wish I could have told him that his very act of getting up at the crack of dawn to get his kids ready for school was inspiring. Still is.
Before she smiled shyly and waved goodbye, I wish I could have jumped off that school van and gone to plant a kiss on her forehead.
Before she leans over and starts reading what I’m reading, be it fiction or my sociology textbook, I wish I could ruffle her curls and tell her what I love so much about her. Every time I read/watch Matilda, it will be you I will be searching for.