You Never Noticed?

Today was the first day I've been wave-jumping in nearly thirty years. My son noticed I went farther out in the ocean than usual -- which is hardly ever past my waist -- but he didn't say much until I acknowledged it. "Ever since I almost drowned, I haven't enjoyed the ocean the way I used to," I said. "What? You almost drowned? When was that?' So I related the story: the short version is I was with friends at the beach in Emerald Isle, North Carolina, when I was caught by the undertoe. My friends tried to help me, I breathed in a lot of water, and my brother and then-husband saved my life. My first thought before passing out onshore was, "At least Arnold [a raft-guide friend who was with us] knows CPR." And down I went, unconscious on the sand.

So I said to my son today, "Didn't you ever wonder why I got your brothers to take you out in the ocean when you were little?" I wanted my kids to love the water the way I always had, and I didn't want them to "catch" my fear. He said he hadn't thought much about it and didn't remember that until he was older (around eight) and we were living in Florida. Now, I will say that often when I launch into one of my stories, he listens graciously and then lets me know (in a sweet but sometimes smart-ass way) that he's heard it before. So I was astounded by two things: he didn't wonder why I never went far out in the ocean and he'd never heard that story. I wonder what else I haven't told him.

I'm not sure what emboldened me today, but I had a lot of fun. Maybe it was that my son made me feel secure. Anyway, it's a big step and one that took only thirty years to achieve. I'd like to do it again -- in less than thirty years.