Diving In

My husband took the kids to see a movie this afternoon, so when I finished the last load of laundry, I put on my swimsuit and went outside. I had a book and a glass of iced tea, and I was determined to stay out there and R-E-L-A-X.

Before I could kick back and start reading, I had to rid the pool of its bug population. We find hundreds of tiny dead millipedes on the bottom of the pool every time we go out to swim. I hate stepping on bugs in the pool, so I always have to vacuum up the critters; I have to dip the floating bugs off of the top, too.

Bugs. Blech. I'd make a horrible entomologist.

After about 20 minutes, the pool was sparkling clean. I settled down to read my book (a nice, quick crime drama by James Patterson. Short chapters, just enough plot to hook you... perfect summertime read!) I had about 3 chapters under my belt when I thought I heard thunder in the distance.

Murphy's Law.

I folded my book closed and sat on the steps to concentrate on the noise I'd heard. While I was listening, I had a flashback to a trip my family took to Panama City Beach, Florida when I was in elementary school. I remember getting up early on the morning we were supposed to leave, just so I could jump just one more time off of the pool's diving board. My dad took me down to the pool, and we found that it hadn't yet been cleaned (it was freakin' early.... what was I thinking?) I decided to jump in anyhow, right through the layer of bugs that were floating on the water's surface. I coasted all the way to the shallow end on one breath and got out of the pool. My work was done.

This flashback made me wonder:

(1) What was I thinking, diving into all those bugs? Sheesh! "Hey little me! That is not what we do! Bugs are gross!"

(2) How many times have I denied my kids a memory like the one I have of that singular dive into a frigid pool? I know there have been little things like that that my kids have asked to do, but in my laziness I've said, "Not right now!" My dad most likely had better things to do that morning, but he took the time to make sure I got one last jump before we left.

My dad has always been good like that, making sure my sister and I had unique experiences and memories to draw on. He always encouraged us to put down our books on car trips so we'd actually have to see what we were driving past. It's such a cliche', but my daddy loves life. He lives to learn, to absorb things, to capture moments.

I need to start living more. Absorbing more. Learning more. Creating more capturable moments.

Race you to the pool!