A few weeks ago, I had my first swim practice of the season with the masters and it brought a wealth of emotions: the excitement of being back in the pool coupled with the fear of being back at practice after a  much-needed break, the hope of finding some new power in my upper body this year, and the apprehension of working with a new coach.  As soon as I set foot on deck, all emotions vanished and i was ready for business.

Our coach ended our warm-up with a drill that was new to all of us; we strapped our legs for 4 x 50 metres.

“No buoyancy?” one swimmer asked.

“No, it is just arms.  This is for your core,” she replied.

“Arms and core?” I thought.  “I’ve got this!”  Anyone who has seen me swim knows that most of my power comes from my arms and my core is strong.  Twenty-five metres in, though, I felt my legs start to drop.  “I’m sinking,” I thought.  My ankles dropped a few inches more. “Oh my God!”  “I am going to drown.”  Then i came to a full stop.  “This is how he felt.” The thought of my friend who drowned years ago engulfed me.

I couldn’t swim.  My shoulders were above the water, my feet touched the bottom of the pool and I looked around.  The lifeguard was in his chair, everyone else was swimming – or trying to swim. “I’m going to be okay.  There are eyes on me.  I can do this.”  With stops, I made it to the wall and back for my first 50 metres.

“What am I doing wrong?” I asked our coach.  After she explained that I needed to rotate my core more, I continued through the rest of the set, and then through the rest of the practice.  When I got home, I ate, showered and went to bed.   But I didn’t sleep well.  I was up and down all night, which I attributed to the excitement of my school’s cross-country meet the next day.

During a quieter moment at the meet, the cost of racing came up in a discussion with other coaches, which led to further talk about insurance for road and trail races, and that spiralled to the high cost of pool insurance.  My heart pounded again.

It’s been ten years.  I think of my friend daily but I hadn’t felt like this since his funeral.  That Monday night, my grief came out of the blue and it hung over me for weeks; my heart ached. During this time, I couldn’t help but think about those children I’ve taught who gone through the loss of a parent or how friends manage after a spouse or loved one has passed.  Grief effects all of us in different ways.  My own has always been there but I wasn’t seeing it.  The phrase “we don’t know what other people are dealing with” comes to mind.  When it comes right down to it, though, I don’t even know what I am dealing with.  I turned to family and closest friends to share this story, and all they could do was listen.  But that was all that I needed.

In our busy lives, we need to pay attention to each other.  Watch.  Listen.  Question.  Try to understand.  Be kind.

Always be kind.  It is the most valuable tool that we can share.