
Swimming at 40
Laughter crashed with the waves. Boys waited in the water to jump over the crests. Others showed their patience on boogie boards. A teenage couple forgot everyone else and held each other in a long kiss. Behind me an older woman clung to her partner — she didn’t know how to swim. She laughed harder than the rest.
Water and salt makes for joy. The sky was blue and the water was a dark sea moss green. I could still see my hands underneath but never my toes.
Now in the water I stand like the rest when the thought creeps, “I have to float.” Some goals are loftier but for me and on this day, I just wanted to know what it was like to be still, hear the waves, feel the sun on my face and let the breath within support me. To manage the surface. To be light enough for the water. To let go.
Few know but the ocean terrifies me. The far deep.
Yet, I wanted to float on this day with a water calm enough to hold me. It gave me permission and I knew. So I fell backwards and the air in my lungs pushed my chest up. Horizontal for the rays to hit my skin.
At first, I’m stiff. One part of my body wants to turn over but the natural correction follows. Now I look up and see the sky. The water doesn’t enter my ears only the giggles from those in the ocean with me.
And I hear the rhythm in my breath in synch with the waves. I open my eyes and I see the crest go past my toes. The point where I realize I glide with waves. I feel peace. I float.
A woman next to me kicks. I tell myself I can do the same thing. My eyes shut again. I much prefer to feel the heat on my face. I kick and still float. Few minutes pass. As I open my eyes I see. I’m further out from the shore. The patient boys on their boogie boards are far from me. I still hear the laughter.
I realize the precarious situation. A spot where one no longer feels the sand. A bottom that can submerge me. Deeper.
The next seconds become a blur. It’s as if the ocean became solid so I can position myself to take off. However, I only recall telling myself “stay calm, stay calm.”
I start to swim in steady strokes. “Stay calm, stay calm.”
And I could feel my chest getting tired. I had been smoking heavily the day before.
“Stay calm, stay calm.”
“I’m feeling tired, but I can’t quit. I’m almost there. Stay calm, stay calm. I think I feel fear.”
The laughter becomes louder. I see two women stand with water up to their chests. The finish line.
One stroke and Im there. Now I stand. I join the laughing herd.
I look at the sky and chuckle. How close it could have been for me? I could have ended. My first time floating. My first time swimming in the ocean.
Ten years before I was playing on an island. I didn’t know how to swim. The water pulled me. I panicked. Breath left my body in irregular rhythms. I was rescued. I slumped on my towel in shame.
Now, I swim at 40. I made it back to my beach chair. Underneath my umbrella I tasted salt on my lips and joy. So much joy.
