Originally, I Blamed The Butterfly.

From before I can remember until I was about 10 years old my Grandparents took us to a campground off and on in the Summer. There was a pool at the clubhouse and when I was around 6 or 7, they also decided I should finally learn to swim. I wasn't a huge fan of the water because I fell off a raft while playing when I was 5 and found almost drowning very unpleasant. So, water and I had a sort of "nice to look at, but fuck that" relationship. Also, "almost drowning" means being under the water for about 3 seconds until my Mom fished me out, but when you're 5, it's a big ass deal.

Frustrated with my apprehension, they let me pick out some floaties. Baby blue on the inside and looked exactly like an Oreo bag on the outside. I was an advertisement. Moving on. I felt pretty good in them, I started on the stairs wading. I then ventured out to the shallow end and tested them in every way I could for dependability and sinkability. In the safety of that 3 feet of water, which damn near went over my head, I began the process of learning to swim. It was delicate, but I knew it had to be done.

One Saturday, my parents were coming to visit us. My Grandma was getting lunch ready so my Grandpa and sister and I went to the pool. Grandpa was chilling in his fave lawn chair smoking or sleeping and I'm sure Jennifer was cold kickin it live with one of the campground boys on the patio while I was practicing my swimming in my shallow training center. I can be easily distracted. I remember getting out of the pool because I saw a flower I wanted to examine more closely. There was a butterfly on it and I was staring it down, willing it to fly into my hand when I heard my Dad calling my name.

I looked up and saw my parents walking down the road to the clubhouse toward me. They were about 30 yards or so away. Fueled by giddiness over seeing them after their work week, or the butterfly, or the sunshine, I have no idea what.... I decided to show them what I had learned in a week in a BIG way. I smiled my biggest, waved at them through the chain link fence surrounding the pool, yelled "watch!" and took off running. I jumped as high as I could off the side of the pool directly toward the middle of the deep end, turning back to face them with my arms straight in the air.

As soon as I hit the water, I realized what was about to happen, but it was too late to pull my arms in and I felt the floaties slide right off. I panicked, but felt my feet touched the bottom so I pushed off and just clawed my little hands up toward the surface knowing my parents were watching and thinking if I just got my mouth out the top of the water, all I had to do was get one single word out as loud as I could, Mom, and she would get me.

To my surprise, as my eyes broke the surface and I was swallowing the pool water I had taken in getting a breath to scream her name, I saw my Mom in action. She was at the end of an Olympic sprint and leap, her hands and right foot were already on the top of the fence, and her eyes were locked on mine. She launched herself over the 5 foot of patio concrete between us and landed in the pool right next to me. She had to make that run in about 2 seconds. My head never even had time to bob back under the water. She beat my sister and Grandpa who were 15 feet away.

Trying not to make me lose my shit, she started laughing while swimming me to the ladder. I, of course, was in hysterics. My Dad helped us out and my Mom started drying me off telling me I was ok and she thought I looked awesome rocketing into the water. As I'm finally calming down and my Dad is done yelling at Jennifer for not jumping in sooner, my Mom turns me toward her in the chair and says "you know.... you're going to have to get back in there". I give her a look that is a mixture of sheer terror and "you've got to be shitting me", but she just stares back.

Me: "No way. I'm just not good at swimming and this proves it"

Mom: "You jumped, you took a chance, you just weren't ready. You got to the top though, didn't you? That's swimming, you just don't know it yet."

Me: "I'm done."

Mom: "You're not done. You have to swim. Period. Do you want to know a trick first?"

Me: "Whatever."

Mom: "Learn to float. Let's get back in. If you know how to just relax and float, you won't panic and you can just lean back and regroup like that."

Me: "No thanks."

Mom: "Please don't make me throw you back in. I promise you... everything will be ok, and you'll feel better if you just let yourself float. And no matter what, you are getting back in."

I cried until dinner. She didn't care. And the next day.... I learned how to float. Then swim. She was right. Sometimes, you just need to relax.

Thanks, Mom.