Confession

We spent an idyllic day at the beach Sunday. The skies were sunny and the water was warm enough to be invitingly refreshing. What that means is that the girls were able to stay in for hours with only minor numbness and a few short breaks in the sun until feeling returned to wayward fingers and toes. They were in so long that it went from kayak to boogie board water. They were waiting for the waves to roll in. Patience paid off.

They're both strong and smart swimmers, yet I watched them like a hawk from my adirondack on the beach. Mike took over while I read a few chapters or when I took a walk along the shore. It occurred to me that I'd really be helpless to help them. I'm an okay swimmer, but I'm no lifeguard. I'd be a witness. I'd be able to tell the story. That didn't feel like enough as I sat there watching them go further out in search of waves to ride without a single fear. I said a prayer. Prayers never hurt. 

On this day I felt a certain relief when the 5 more minutes 5 times expired and we were packing up for home. I can only explain it as that sense that we dodged a bullet. There are hundreds of bullets in our every day, but some days you feel their sight trained on you. 

Lily started to cough on the ride home. It caught my attention. When I looked back at her, her face showed worry. Fear. I hid mine. She's easy to alarm. She had burning in her chest, some shortness of breath and discomfort. She'd swallowed some Lake Michigan water. Of course she did. She spent 5 hours in the water. But I was remembering that bullet and not willing to feel safe yet. I Googled dry drowning as soon as we got home. Yes, it's a thing. A pretty scary thing.

She showered. Relaxed. The coughing abated. She ate some Tums. Dinner. She started to feel better. Look better. She was exhausted and headed to bed early. I slept fitfully and woke several times in the night to check on her as if she were a helpless newborn again. We barely spoke of it the next day. The minor sunburn was the lingering and visible complaint.

My confession: I was scared. I'm still feeling fragile. My mind went to all the worst possible places. I don't intend to write the words for the images I conjured. I simply cannot give them legs. Life.

Life is precious and precarious. We get up each day knowing nothing about what truly lies ahead. We have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst as best we can. We have to trust. There's a difference between being careful and being fearful. There's a difference between living in fear and going through life with measured caution. There's also a difference between YOLO: living life with reckless abandon, and living life with an appreciation for its fleeting fragility. I need the universe to know that I know what a gift each new day is and I'm only scared because life is beautiful and often too short. Amen.