By Kate Casper
After the plunge, her nerves were washed away.
Butterfly stroke to the end of the pool, just as her dad had taught her.
Her arms shoveled water. Push straight toward your feet, she heard him say.
Again. Again. Catapulting herself forward, swooping, dipping, reaching for space. Her arms circled overhead, cartwheeling, swanlike. Then her hands dredged the pool for deeper and more satisfying armloads of water. Past her gut, down to the core of her being she dug, summoning, up and over, diving deep again.
Then, thunk. She grasped the wall. And in her mind—win or lose—her dad smiled.
Being a former competitive swimmer, I can 100% relate to this. Well done.
Being not much of a swimmer at all, I can relate to this. Well done.
Very funny. I have swallowed a lot of water.
Sweet. Thank you for reading.
I remember coaches yelling from poolside. But dad was in my head.
Great story. The real story is told with “-win or lose-” and probably has nothing to do with swimming but rather with feelings of self-worth and approval.
Applause to Dad for being a loving Dad, win or lose.
I loved this, Kate. You write beautifully. Would love to chat about it sometime 🙂
I loved this, Kate. You write beautifully. Would love to chat about the story sometime.
Vivid descriptions. I like “armloads of water.”
The ending is sweet and satisfying.
I love how you honor our ferociously loving Dad in this story?
I put a heart in there, and it modified to a question mark, sorry!
To all: Thank you for reading and commenting. I had trouble getting the replies in the right places via a mobile device, but I appreciate every one of them. Kate
Well done!