Monday, November 14, 2011

Taking a step back, in time.

I've been cleaning out the storage area, AGAIN. What seems like it should be a once done finished job seems to disorganize itself over a matter of months. I did unearth some interesting stories, written years ago, or perhaps one could call them memories of the moment.
Because my blog is for my family and friends here is something dedicated to my daughter, Mary.
Her hair, still wet, gives off a clean but slightly chlorine smell.
Curls fringe her high forehead.
I'm proud of her. She has worked so hard, practiced every day for two weeks, laps and laps of swimming. Far more than I could ever do. Her dives reflect care in mastering how deep to go into the water. How to hold her body as she plunges from a height that makes me queasy just to look at it.
She has overcome every mistake she has made in earlier meets. She is ready for this one.
As she lined up for her first event she would look around, in the bleachers for me, holding up her right hand and wiggling her upright little finger at me. I returned the sign knowing how important good luck signs are. I watched her head, encased in royal blue with a gold octopus bob through the water, her arms flashing with a strength I didn't realize she had, she would turn on the speed. You could see the moment it happened and whole seconds were shaved off her time.
It's hard to appreciate this sport that demands so much from the individual. Progress is measured in seconds, tenths of a second, turns are executed smoothly by somersaults under water.
Tension builds up so quickly waiting behind the block to start. I can see her shaking her hands as if to toss of the excess nervous energy.
She never seems to really know how fast she has gone. Every time she popped her head up, at the end of her laps and as her time was announced she would look up, in my direction, in surprise and her face would light up. Such a beautiful sight.
Wrapping her up in her over sized pink towel I would remind myself that this is why I gave up entire days to sit through these meets, just to see her feel that good about herself.
Maybe next year she'll want to play basketball or softball whatever she chooses I know she will play it with confidence and dedication, just like she has her swimming.

1 comment:

  1. Bea this is a beautiful tribute to your beautiful daughter. I too swam on a swim team back in the 60's and we had practice in the mornings for 2 hours and a 90 minute practice in the evening. It was a mediation process for me and the only sport I ever really excelled in as a child. Have a wonderful week! Imagine and Live in Peace, Mary Helen