Just seeing her in a pool was so difficult. I was on the bench breathing through this moment. My daughter Miriam at her very first swimming lesson. But as much as our fears were mostly understandable by those who loved us, we needed to find a rhythm in our new life. We had kept our daughter away from the beach, pool parties, those big swan paddleboats at the zoo, boats of any sort, waterslides. My husband and I finally agreed that we couldn’t pretend water didn’t exist anymore. This enormous elephant in my jump rope game was swimming. You’d just be jumping.īut if your game was suddenly stopped, and your rope was cut in half, how do you start jumping again? You wouldn’t even be thinking about the movement of your feet. If you were there at the beginning, when the rope started turning, you’d have your rhythm down. To me, it feels like trying to join in on a game of jump rope. When the most out-of-order events occur in life, is it possible to put ourselves back in order? Or does being “in order” become less important? She needs to make sense of this out-of-order timeline in her life. She needs her big brother to be older than she is. ![]() But to my daughter, she wants him to be 11 years old. To me, he is always just shy of two years old. She asks me for the 1,000th time how old her brother, Noah, is in heaven. ![]() Effortlessly floating and calmly treading water with my 6-year-old daughter, Miriam. The sight of water caused me to feel like I was drowning - a palpable feeling that has lasted many years since that day in July of 2010.īut now I find myself in a swimming pool for the very first time since that day. A puddle, a bathtub, a pond, a lake … any amount of water that could cover a face, preventing someone from breathing, caused me panic. ![]() I have barely been able to even look at a body of water.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |