Isn't It Aquatic

Last Friday I actually waded all the way into the ocean. This is because Race was holding my hand. More commonly he must carry me. In his arms. On his back. On some floatation device. Fear is a powerful thing. Fear of touching the bottom. Fear of injury. Fear of the unknown.

This marital behavior is observed as a demonstration of love. Sometimes other wives at beach parties show jovial envy of my attentive husband. Some likely expressing mild disgust in private at our public display. Our young children waiting on the beach for our return. Mommy and Daddy love each other so much. A veil of romance cloaking my irrational adrenal resistance to the water.

Lately, always, quietly, this feeling infuses my sleep. (worry -verb: to torment oneself with or suffer from disturbing thoughts; fret). Use worry in a sentence. "We worry in each other's arms." Something needs to change.

Saturday morning my walking beach filled up with families for the long and ironic holiday weekend. The water was transformed, churning rare waves caused by a distant named storm skirting our coast. Surfers. Paddle boarders. Heat. A life guard. Our brave beautiful children. My handsome husband. All there. And so I went in. More deeply tired of being afraid than feeling afraid. I paddled out, by myself, on a watermelon pink boogie board.

What's the worst thing that could happen? (worry along or through, informal -verb phrase: to progress or succeed by constant effort, dispite difficulty: to worry through an intolerable situation). I could lose an arm. Or a foot. I am out almost as far as the surfers. Looking right into the small walls of water as they come. I can't look down when the water is calm. Everyone knows that all you have to do is poke a shark right in the eyeball and it will go away. Also you can drown the shark by pulling its tail directly backwards for a while. So I keep trying to ride the rythym. Cresting without capsizing. And then I'm thinking, the word blast was meant for this. I can see my son wrestling with the water at the shore far way, and Race swimming out deep with our daughter in his arms. Are you guys doing OK? I call to him. You should see your smile, he yells back to me. Your face is glowing! Now that's romantic.