Almost drowned in May
Water is amazing and scary.
Earlier this May, I almost drowned in Outer Banks, NC.
Splash! Another thunderous wave came crashing on my back.
I started using my breathless panicky voice shouting for help. Calm down, Jeff. Let’s swim back, my friend said. These waves were riptides — invisible killers of the seas. They crashed on us like whips to break bones. Every time water rushed into my nostrils, it felt like it was battling against the very breath I was trying to take. We were all struggling to swim back to shore. Those on the beach could see us struggling, flailing, and fighting against the vast ocean swallowing us whole, but our voices dim compared to the enveloping tides.
Go to your swimming class.
When I was a kid, not even half as tall as a door, my mom made sure I went to swimming lessons. I learned to kick with a board, practiced breaststroke, and freestyle, and that was that. In 6th grade, I won first place in my school’s kicking board category. Nevertheless, seeing my classmates who were entering puberty early with greater strength, I felt no pride in winning what felt like the easiest category.
In middle school, we had to train in a university-affiliated pool. With competition standards, the pool was a manmade ocean. The clear water…
