... no mail while i was gone ...
March 24, 1999
6:07 a.m.
Do you want to learn how to touch the bottom of the pool?" I said. Brigid clung to the edge, her hair slicked back and her eyes wide. "Okay, but not at the ten foot area." "How about we start between the five foot and the eight foot?" Brigid nodded, and we moved into place. I had just spent several minutes standing on the bottom of the pool, listening to underwater sounds, and waiting for her to return to the water herself. She had jumped in while I was underwater, and I had held onto the edge to catch my breath. The water was almost bathwater warm, and it was clean and blue with a noticeable, but not overpowering chlorine content. We got to the spot that Brigid felt was a good starter place, maybe three feet past the five foot deep point. I showed her how to use the edge of the pool to push herself downward, how to point her toes to help her slice through the water. The first time, she touched the bottom with her toe, then pushed off. The second, she got her whole foot down there. Each time, I fished her back to the egde while she blew water out of her nose. Pretty soon, she was getting down there and staying long enough to kneel down and touch the bottom with her hands. She was getting tired, though, I could tell. Bottom dwelling takes energy. She came up one last time, bubbles spewing from the mouth and nose, her hair flowing down toward the bottom of the pool as she kicked upward. We had spent nearly thirty minutes at this process, me passing my great pool wisdom down to her, her putting up with probably a bit too much coaching, but pleased to be progressing her underwater skills. I figured it would be the last time for the day, and that moment, Brigid kicking for the surface, was frozen in time for me, one of those images I'll call up when I'm seventy. She sputtered and coughed water. She clung to me with those tight grips of a girl who isn't quite ready to leave. "You notice anything?" I said? "What?" I turned and pointed to the side of the pool. I had been slowly edging around the pool with every dive, you see. The sign read "10 Feet". Brigid's eyes grew wide and she squealed with mock anger. "You did it, Brigid," I said, holding onto her. "You did it."   Have a great day.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
|
"Writing is about learning to pay attention and to communicate what is going on." Anne Lamott |
BACK TO 
|