Classes have started for me again. The first writing assignment is to write an autobiography. Here's one part of my memoir.
At nine years old, running free outside, feeling fresh air in my lungs, riding my bike and swimming are some of my favorite things to do. I wish summer would last forever! Even still, this wish remains in my heart, the heart of a Central New York lifer.
I love being nine years old. Life is simple, like my faith. I run and play and sing for hours through what seems like endless summer days. And then, when the sun is just beginning to set, my little sister (aka...my partner in play) and I lay face up in the soft, freshly cut grass and stare up at the blue, blue sky watching the puffy white clouds float by.
It is one of those glorious, never ending CNY summer days. I'm laughing and splashing in the water at our church camp. My friend Jamie and I are in a race to see who could do the most back flips underwater in one breath. I want to win. Again and again we push ourselves. “...7...8.…9...” I'm starting to need air “...10...11...AHHH! I gotta come up!”
I spring myself to the top, but only find more water. Disoriented, I begin to panic. Round and round I grope, grasping, clawing, trying to get to the top. Opening my eyes wide in fright, I search around. “Jesus, please help me!“ My eyes catch a glimpse through the murky, seaweed filled waters….light! There it is! Go, get air! I lunge as fast as I can towards the light to catch a desperate breath of air as my lungs feel like they’re going to explode! The pain! The pressure!
I reach the light and spring to the surface, smashing my head on a piece of wood. There’s only space enough for my nose and mouth above the water. Where am I? I realize I have surfaced underneath the long, wooden docks. We’re not allowed under here. Squishy mud is under my feet. Seaweed wraps around my arms. Rumor has it that water snakes live here, under the docks. I don’t care. I can breathe.
I sputter out a weak, “Help me.” The rest is a blur. A strong lifeguard is carrying me to a blanket on the beach. I’m wrapped in towels. I’m safe and warm. I can breathe. I am saved!
2 comments:
I almost drown when I was little at camp too! Although my near death experience was because a beloved friend of mine used to say, okay, lets play witch, i'll be the witch. Then promptly she would jump on me and hold me under until I flailed around like a mad person. She always got to be the witch! I don't known what's sadder...my friend trying to drown me or me coming back for more. I love having grown up at camp!
LOL this is hilarious! I can totally relate to the "I can't breath, but I still feel the need to pound out one more flip just to beat you!!!" feeling ...Kids! ...You probably forgot all about your near death experience just in time to do some more flips the next day! haha
* Ewwww nasty seaweed on your feet!!!! That is one of the grossest feelings in the world!
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