Sink or Swim

Because I practically lived at the pool when I was young, it's always been puzzling to me why someone would be afraid of water and hence never learn to swim. Lest some of you feel the need to write and remind me of a few of my own irrational fears, let me assure you that I understand the irrational fear part of the whole not swimming concept quite, quite well ... it's the being afraid of water and not learning to swim that I have a hard time comprehending. My own mom was a non-swimmer; in fact, she was so afraid of water that she would put only the least amount necessary in the tub to take a bath. I've read that fear of water is often caused by some sort of traumatic event, but if that was true in Mom's case, I don't remember her ever telling me about it. I do, however, remember that when she moved to the apartment complex just down the street from me, I took her to see the pool and told her I was going to teach her how to swim. Mom's answer was true blue Mom ... "Lord, help, Terrie ... you know you ain't puttin' me in no dern swimmin' pool!" Mom knew exactly what the phrase "sink or swim" meant to her, and trust me, no one on earth could have convinced her that she might indeed be able to swim rather than sink if she only would have tried.

Ollie and I have met a lot of people while we're out on our evening walks on the trail, and we've met a lot of dogs as well, including another little wiener dog named Daisy. I've written previously about the bond between Ollie and Daisy ... Ollie flipping loves Daisy, and much to his delight, he seems to have finally won her heart. They are so stinking cute when they see one another approaching on the trail ... their little tails wag like crazy and they do this little high-pitched whine thing, and when they finally reach each other, Ollie licks Daisy's nose and she licks his neck. I'm telling you, it's seriously stinking cute to see the two of them greet one another ... seriously stinking cute. Daisy and her owner Jeanne live just a couple of streets over from me, and recently we've been meeting up most evenings and walking together. Ollie and Daisy love the time together, and it's nice to have someone to walk with for a change.

I was rather quiet a few nights ago when Ollie and I met up with Jeanne and Daisy to walk ... I had a lot on my mind and was feeling sort of blue ... and we were about midway through our walk when Jeanne asked me if I was okay. After I assured her that I was indeed okay, she told me that it worries her when I get quiet ... or when I shuffle my feet when we walk ... or when I pull my cap down low on my forehead to hide my eyes. To which I replied, "I hate that, you know ... I hate that when I have a bad day now, everyone worries that I'm going to off myself. I never should have told anyone about my plan, you know ... I hate it that people worry about me like that. Everybody has a bad day now and then ... it doesn't mean I'm going to do myself in." 

Jeanne's got a decade or so on me in physical age, but when it comes to wisdom, she's a lifetime farther along than I am ... she is one wise little lady for sure. Which is why what she said that evening has stuck with me ... it's why I can't get her words out of my head and more important, it's why I can't get them out of my heart. 

"You listen to me, Terrie ... don't you dare tell those of us who care about you not to worry when you are sad and don't you dare think for one second that it was bad that you told us how close you were to ending your life. You've worked long and hard to swim out of that pit and if we think you're sinking ... well, we're not about to let that happen. You don't have a choice anymore to sink or swim, friend ... you're going to swim and that's all there is to it. I'm happy as punch that there are people watching over you ... happy as punch! Tell me not to care will you now? I don't hardly think so!"

And with those words, Jeanne quite effectively put me in my place and left me speechless. That doesn't happen all that often you know ... someone leaving me completely speechless and unable to reply ... but that's exactly what my friend did that evening. Jeanne did something far more important that evening, however ... something far more important that rendering me speechless. She caused me to feel a sense of thankfulness ... an overwhelmingly deep sense of thankfulness and gratitude for the people in my life who care enough to look past the surface ... who recognize when the sadness is creeping in ... who call me out and force me to let them see where I am ... who jump into the pool and help me keep swimming ... who absolutely refuse to allow me to sink.

It's really hot outside today, friends ... what's say we all go for a swim together, eh?