We had a pretty good weekend.

Imagine one day you are driving home from work, thinking about what to cook for dinner, and you blink and then BAM! you are in the middle of the ocean.

You know when you jump into the ocean, and it is cold and the water shocks you, your lungs contract and you panic until you realize you jumped.  You picked this.  You’ll be ok.  This isn’t like that.  You didn’t jump.  You didn’t see the black water coming and you can’t breathe.  For a long time. 

Once you calm down, you realize you can sink or swim.  And your first reaction is to swim, to swim like hell.  But swimming like hell wears you out.  And you can’t see land.  And you really don’t even remember why you are swimming anyway.  And the water is cold, and it seems like an eternity before you will feel ok again.  So you sink.  It is easy to sink.  And sometimes, even if you think you are ready to swim again, you just can’t.

Today I couldn’t swim.  I cried through church.  I cried through the grocery store.  I violated Grace’s three cry per day rule. A couple times.

We wrapped up our evening sitting on the back porch, watching it rain and grilling burgers.  We had burgers, with a beautiful greek salad, tzatziki sauce for the burgers and chips and ice cold water.  Then we did yard work.  And went swimming in a 90 degree pool.  We got out, and sat poolside to watch a beautiful sunset. 

And Grace turned around to look at me and said “We had a pretty good weekend, Mom.”

And just like that I’m swimming again. 

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