It's been so long since I've blogged, I don't even know where to start. I revisited this blog several weeks ago, to get some information I needed. It was the first time I had logged on in years. Yes, years. I went back and read one post, had a good cry and laugh over it, and it made me think I want to start this up again. Like I said, that was several weeks ago, so we'll see. I may be writing to myself at this point, and that is okay.
There are a lot of things that have come up in my life, since my husband's death. Some of them would be obvious to most, but others probably only obvious to those who have walked in my shoes. One of these things has been fear. Anxiety, really. I am realizing that I have had some form of anxiety or another for most of my life, but it's become more apparent to me. Maybe it's more severe or that I realize that if it's debilitating for me, it's no longer just me that it affects. It affects my son too. Anxiety alone could be it's own post, but that is not in itself what I wanted to write about.
I live with fear almost daily. I pray that God would take it from me. In the mean time, I am doing my best to do the things I'm afraid of in spite of my fear.
Recently, my son and I went tubing on the Comal River. The shortest river in the world. Really. I was concerned about my son, because even though he can swim, he's not a strong swimmer. This river is a more kid friendly river. On the shallower side. Even so I made sure to pack a life jacket for him, got him a tube with a bottom so he wouldn't fall through, and told him to hold onto his handles. Even though I'm an even weaker swimmer, I wasn't too concerned about myself. From what I read before hand, it didn't seem like the river would be very deep and from my one past experience floating the Guadalupe River, which is longer, I figured I'd be fine.
I was wrong. To start with, I don't own a life jacket for myself and I forgot to ask for one when we rented our tubes. Trust me, this was not about pride. That went out the window a long time ago. Shortly after you get into the river, you go through a "category 4" chute... whatever that means. Well, part of that means that you have to let go of whomever you are with. So I had to let go of my son's tube. He did great going through the chute though! I kept my eye on him and he had a big smile as he was pushed by gushing water, through the chute! I was in front of him and the current pushed me down river, while it pushed him to the side and up against the wall. I kept looking back to see if he would start floating my way, but his tube didn't move. By the way, my son is 8. He's my only child. It's just me and him. We are a team. He's my everything. So a partial panic set in and I hopped out of my tube. I don't remember it being extremely difficult to get over to the side, but I did and was able to get over to some stairs, where I intended to climb up and walk back over to him. There were a few people blocking my way and they would not move. Since he wasn't moving either, I didn't feel the need to rush. After a few minutes, my sister-in-law came through the chute, saw my son and got a hold of his tube and got him off the wall and into the current down river.
Once I saw that, I waited a little bit and then got back into my tube, trying to time it the best I could. I was still in front of them though. As I floated, I had no idea who in our party was in front of me and who was behind me. I saw my niece off to the side and some other people. Thinking most of our group must have been with her, it seemed like a good spot for everyone to regroup. I looked down and the water was clear and it was shallow. Perfect! I jumped out of my tube and as soon as I did, the river bottom dropped. I couldn't see anything. Even though I had water shoes on, the rocks were slippery and I could not get a footing. Every time I tried to jump up, the rocks would shift and I would slip. Like my son, I also had a tube with a bottom. Each time I grabbed the handles and tried to pull myself up, not only would my feet slip, but the tube would flip over and the bottom would hit me on the head and push me back under the water. I don't know how long this went on. Probably not long, but it felt like a long time to me. In reality, I don't know how close I came to drowning, but I was in panic mode. I wasn't getting anywhere. I knew I needed help, but I also didn't want to be dramatic (it's important to not be dramatic when you're in an emergency, you know), and I let out the wimpiest "help," you can imagine... wait, is that pride??
I made eye contact with my sister-in-law, who is a strong swimmer. She managed to get to me, and so did Jesus and his legion of angels- I'm convinced. She was able to get me over to the side of the river where my brother was. Once I got out of the water, I could hear myself breathing rapidly, unlike I'd ever breathed before. That is not the end of our day at the river, but that is the part that stuck with me the rest of the day and it still does.
It made me realize how quickly I could have drowned. How quickly my biggest fear since losing my husband, could have come true- that I would die and my son would be without the both of us. It became apparent to me that I needed to make it a priority to really learn how to swim. To get over the fear of putting my head underwater and swim! Not float on my back or doggy paddle for a few seconds, but actually swim. So this past week, while my son worked on his swimming with my sister-in-law's mom, I got in the pool too and swam. I swam with and without flippers. I swam a few feet and then a few more, all in the shallow part. Still in the safety of the shallow end, I practiced swimming and then turning over to float on my back. Then when I got brave enough, I swam to the deep end. Not once or twice, but several times. It felt great! I am proud of myself for pushing past this fear that I've held onto for most of my life. One more fear that God has walked with me and helped me to face and I can't wait to do it again! Side note... I am so thankful for my sister-in-law. I know she didn't even have to think about her actions, but that day could have been very different without her.
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