Monday, September 5, 2011

wanderlust

Slater was twelve years old when he floated away. Mom and I were holding onto a pier off the intracoastal waterway. One moment he was there and the next he was being sucked into a vicious line of boat traffic. I watched him drift, hollered out his name and began walking toward him in the shallow. I dove in and began swimming even before it was required thinking it would be easy to catch him and the swimming would do me good. A few breaths into it and I began realizing the tide had more of a pull than I had breath. He was getting further away.

I caught him but not before I felt like I had almost died and a boat had pulled up to us to ask if we were okay. I could hardly speak the yes but did and then pulled him back with what little strength I didn't even know I had. Everyone survived that day but what I remember most now is the pull of that current and the risk we both took.

At times I am grateful for this current moving deep within me and at others I give thanks for the still, shallow waters which seem to hold little risk.

Still the current remains strong and now I know more than ever what brought me here to you.

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