There are common memories and bonds that all of us children have with mom. Then there are those that are unique to each individual. For me, the one that is the best blend of both is swimming.
As I have written before, I was a bit of a trouble maker. The main cause of the trouble was my head. I would get an idea in it that I knew I couldn't get out and then I knew I'd have to follow it through. There was no use in convincing me otherwise. One of those ideas was jumping into water. For some reason, I have always been fascinated with water. Whether it is a pool, lake, stream or the ocean, I get this crazy urge to jump into it. As a child, I once went swimming on Easter day when you could still see icebergs in the ocean.
Apparently, at the age of two, I possessed a fanatical love for the water. My grandparents (my mom's parents) had an indoor swimming pool that we frequented often. I am the third child and by the time my dad finished medical school and was doing his residency, there were four children. With my dad busy with his residency training and my mom attempting to keep her new and rather rapidly growing family afloat, we got to spend a lot of time with the grandparents. My grandmother tells me I used to scare her to death. She couldn't always keep her eye on me and she couldn't keep me out of the pool. I don't think my dad and grandfather were ever worried I would drowned, but just to prove it to Grandma, they "taught me how to swim."
This is my first memory. Maybe it was my first feeling as well seeing as I can also recall feeling helpless. All I remember is my dad taking off my floaties and just before he let go of me saying, "swim to Grandpa." No doubt, the memory has been distorted in my mind, but I remember thinking how far away Grandpa was just as my dad dropped me. The next thing I remember is looking up from below the water, feeling scared, and then thrashing my way to the surface. Eventually I made it to the surface and into the arms of my Grandpa. That was enough evidence for both my dad and Grandpa that I could swim. And so, at the age of 2, I became a water safe. From then on, I had free access to the pool (and diving board). I still would scare the hell out of my grandmother as she would watch me jump into the water, sink, come sputtering to the surface, and struggle to make it over the ladder only to repeat the process, but she didn't stop me because I could "swim".
Over the years, I improved my thrashing. As kids, my mom would periodically sign us up for swim lesson at the YMCA in Charlottetown. There were only 2 pools in PEI and the 20 yard pool in Charlottetown, was the closest. I thought swimming lesson were fun until I failed the level below bronze cross twice (I learned later, I was only failed because they didn't give ten year old kids a bronze cross). We would also visit the Y with my dad when he had Friday or Saturday nights off. My dad would give us free reign of the pool and only got involved when we wanted to play. At first, playing just involved him letting us hold onto his back when he swam, but then it progressed to being tossed in the air (which usually resulted in most of the kids in the pool lining up to get thrown) and finally ended up in wrestling. Wresting was my favorite part of going to the pool with Dad. I don't think it was ever much of a challenge for him, but, for me, it was an all out battle. I would exert every ounce of my energy trying to hold him under water and avoid being held under by him. I would twist, thrash, kick and squirm in order to avoid being help down and would hold my breath for as long as possible in order to try to bring him down. The result was always the same, I would have to tap out because I ran out of air. At that point, he'd let me come up for a breather and then I'd go back it again. I never got tired of it, and each week I was just as enthusiast about the challenge.
My mom didn't come with us on these occasions because they were her nights off. I never really understood why she considered them her night off seeing as every time we'd come home, classical music would be playing, the house would be spotlessly cleaned, the laundry done, and dinner (which more often than not included fresh bread) would be on the stove, but then that's mom.
I associate all of these memories with my mother because she was a swimmer. She was the one who got me to to take swim lessons. She was the one who made sure we made it to the pool to play around while she cleaned the house. And she was the person who encouraged me to join a real swim team when we moved to the US. I know that my mother and I share a love for the water. I also know that much of her life she sacrificed this for us and I am thankful.
And so, as I train for this triathlon, I return once again to the pool and am reminded of my mom.
