POOLSIDE LESSON

“No! No! I can’t!” she screamed repeatedly. Her shrieks grew louder and louder.

Kimberly years ago at the shallow end.

What began as a beginner swimming lesson at the Y for our Kimberly and Kent, was not the only lesson learned that day many years ago.

Today, however, I watch our grandchildren at various stages of learning to swim and dive. Now Kimberly, Kent and Katy teach them. We cheer our "grandfish" on and frolick with them in the pool, vacationing at Kent's house:

I remember that day so long ago with their parents who were the students learning to swim back then. I watched their instructor march the kids like little ducks to the deep end and encourage them to jump into her arms as she tread.

“Come on! You can do it!” One by one they overcame fear and jumped in, until she came to the adolescent who stood a head taller than her fellow students. Pinning herself against the wall, she was last in the duck line.

Her tears escalated into sobs by the time it was her turn. She shook her head no over and over as her sobs grew louder. Other instructors took their charges out of the water and shut down their swim sessions to come to her aid.

“No! I can’t!” she bawled like a four year old.

“Jump in! I’ll catch you!” encouraged the instructor still treading water.

Another teacher stood beside the trembling girl encouraging, “Go ahead. You can do it.”

“No! No! I can’t!” she shrieked over and over.

Three instructors, twenty or so kids and several parents all waited. And waited.

“Why do they pamper her?” I finally snapped to the mother beside me. “Her fear only gets worse the longer they delay.”

The third coach tossed a life preserver to the weary instructor who remained in the water. It took both adults to finally drag the girl to the water and lower her into the arms of her teacher.

“Well, it’s about time!” I thought. “They should have done that fifteen minutes ago.”

Another worker appeared beside me in the crowd. She kept her eyes on the girl and spoke softly, “That girl went boating with her parents and brother last summer. The boat capsized, and her father managed to save only her. She watched her mother and brother drown. Her dad insists she learn to swim.”

Her words stung. I gazed at the drenched child, trembling as she climbed out of the pool. I had not witnessed typical childish fear—I’d just seen a young girl cross a terrifying mountain.

Forgive me, Child.

Forgive me, Lord.

Keep Your arm around my shoulder, and Your hand over my mouth. –The Mariner’s Prayer

Lesson learned.

Kimberly and Kent before lessons.

His and yours truly,

Kathy

I DON’T THINK YOU’RE UGLY

“Old age isn’t for sissies.” I’ll add that a good sense of humor also helps as we age.

Doug’s always been complimentary and thoughtful. He gave me three, count them…THREE surprise parties for my 60th birthday a couple of years ago. I think he was most proud of pulling off the surprise element, not that easy to do with me. But come on! Who’d expect more than one party birthday week? He’s good.

The next Sunday at church service he introduced a new praise song, “This is Your House.” We both wear head mikes. Mine was live since I sing and play from the piano. As I played the introduction he gave an impromptu mini-message:

“This is God’s house and we sing to Him, an audience of One. Just like last week my wife returned to our house to find the faces of many old friends and family there to surprise her, to honor her. She was home but also the guest at her 60th birthday party…”

“I can’t believe you just told the whole church how old I am!” Did I just say that out loud?

Through the house speaker and monitors? His head spun my way, wide–eyed. Yep. I must have said it out loud, forgetting my mike was on.

Men cringed. Women gasped. Pastor Mike laughed! Doug blinked rapidly, stared at the congregation and asked if anyone would let him go home with them today. I really didn’t mind telling my age. How could I after three parties? Still…men don’t announce their wives’ age publicly. Glad he doesn’t know my weight.

We still laugh at that one and he gets ribbed about it.

He means well.

One night years ago, Doug got in bed and I was way across the room, heading there. (You can tell it was years ago by the country decor!)

“Kathy, you’re still so beautiful.”

Aw-www, how sweet.

As I climbed in bed with him, he started rubbing his eyes. The next sentence out of his mouth was, “Remind me to get my eyes checked tomorrow.”

So! I look good far away but up close, you need your eyes examined? He’s still trying to declare no connection between the two sentences.

He means well.

Who ever decided to put giant mirrors in bathrooms right in front of tubs? Stupid idea.

Another night as I was coming from the giant-mirrored bathroom to bed, our pillow talk went something like this:

“Doug, I feel so old and fat and ugly!”

“Ohhh, Honey, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

End of sentence. Very pregnant pause.

THEN my face signaled his Uh-oh look. He tried to fix it with, “We-well, I know how old and fat feels.” Too little. Too late.

He means well.

My oldest grandson, J.D., is visiting this week.

He noticed me limping and asked why.

“I think it’s O.A.”

The ever curious 12 year old inquired, “What’s O.A mean?”

“I’m not sure yet, J.D. It’s either osteo arthritis or old age!” He laughed. He gets me.

Recently I teased another grandson, Sean-the-Serious, age 6. “Sean, I don’t know what to do. I just keep getting older and older. Even when I eat healthy and exercise, every morning I get up, it’s the same thing. I’m older than the day before! What can I do?”

He bit his lip, furrowed his brow and pondered for a long time. Finally he raised his eyebrows, cocked his red head and reluctantly shrugged the only conclusion he could reach, “Well, Nana, I guess ya' could just kill yourself!”

Old age isn’t so bad when you consider the alternative, as Sean did. Any day above ground is a good day. We get little pill boxes to fill weekly. We grow old. If we grow wise too, we excel at laughing at ourselves. That humor oils the creaky joints of life.

Blessings!

Kathy

WHY DID I DECIDE TO BLOG? “And they all lived happily ever after.” That’s a TRUE ending for any Christian. However, between that and “Once upon a time…”

is the real story.

Life.

I love to hear and tell stories.

Doug and I watched the movie Inkheart last week. It was a fantasy genre. When a family man, the hero, read a story out loud, the characters came to life. (I wonder how Toto would like living in my back yard. He’d probably get hungry.) I thought about the plot and realized that the written word does bring to life the characters of a story.

There are some real characters in our family, myself included! We have over half a century—OK! OK! I’m 62. So we have 62 years of stories to tell. Some names may be omitted to protect the guilty. You can try to guess now and then which of the 9 grandsons or 3 granddaughters might star in a true story I write.

Why now? Do you believe in coincidences? Ever play Farkel? I think there’s some built in rigging there but many games, the lottery, sweepstakes, even the huge online gambling industry involve chance.

Our son, Kent, was in junior high school

when we moved from Raleigh, NC to his new school, Peninsula Christian in Smithfield, VA. He was assigned a locker and given the combination to his lock.

“Mom! You’re not gonna believe this! My numbers are the exact same as they were at Raleigh Christian Academy last year!”

I lost a diamond earring one summer vacation week at my uncle’s place on Bald Head (Smith) Island. Everyone searched in vain for it. A year or so later we borrowed the house again. Bored, our daughter, Kimberly, volunteered, “I think I’ll clean Aunt Mimi’s pantry.” She found my lost earring. It pays to clean house. Usually doesn’t pay that well, however.

Another day, as I sat on the couch, I called to Kent across the room, “Hon, toss me a pencil please.”

I wasn’t even looking in his direction when he responded.

With a really good toss!

The pencil landed in my right hand, which was in my lap. It landed between the fingers exactly as one would write.

Wide-eyed, we both locked eyes as he sang the Twilight Zone theme, "Do-do-do-do..."

God’s been nudging me to write again. I did for several years but not recently. The day I posted on Facebook that I was pondering a blog, my niece, Christine Tippett Ellis (missionary in Honduras) emailed me:

“Aunt Kathy, I haven’t told anyone yet except you and my sister, Kathleen, but I’m thinking about starting a blog. It’s not public yet but would you read what I’ve written and tell me what you think?” Check her out at: http://www.realmissionsreallife.blogspot.com/

I had to phoned (Skpe) her! We talked about our inner writer needing an outlet, the coincidence of us doing this on the very same day (she’d not read my post) and God’s timing.

Coincidences or divine appointments? I think God is very active in the details of my life. Well, maybe not Farkel unless I win the gold cup. Then I believe “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above…” Seriously, my prayer is that He uses this outlet to uplift, inspire, encourage or just give you a good belly laugh. “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” Every now and then I like to overdose. “He collects my tears in a bottle.” Over the years I picture mine in one of those giant, knee-high jugs folks use to collect coins. I’ve even asked the Lord to form my tears into a chandelier for my mansion. Joy and sorrow. Laughness and tears. Smooth paths and the “bumps you climb on.” TIME marks our story. That’s why this blog. To tell chapters of our story. Bits and pieces of my mind, life. ETERNITY marks our ending. FINAL CHAPTER: And we all lived happily ever after. Not really an ending at all, is it? In His grip, Kathy

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PAGE 2 UPDATE:

Today is Friday, May 29, 2020, almost 11 years later.  As I read this first blog, a memory popped into my almost 73 years old brain (birthday in 2 days!)

The whole allusion to coincidence above and mention of the game Farkle sparked another incident.  Our family rented a large beach house Christmas and we were playing Farkle or Greed.  I was losing majorly, everyone ahead of me by thousands of points.  On our last round I casually tossed the dice.  All six came up ONES!  If you know the score system, you realized I made 4,000 points instantly AND gained a second roll.  I soared from loser to solid solid winner, mush to my joy and the family's shock!

Coincidence or divine appointment?  I think God often winks at me through such crazy, humorous events.  He knows I'm both so He speaks my language.  He's a very personal, loving, joyful Father!