The prospect of going swimming regularly with my son is a pleasant one. The thought of gentle, waterborne exercise is enticing. Stiffened muscles and aching joints seem to relish the idea. Quite apart from the fact that I’d rather like my son to be able to swim again. Just for safety’s sake, let alone his own pleasure in the water.
I was pondering the logistics of that as I wallowed in a hot bath, but somehow ended up remembering warm Corsican seas instead. The idea of safety in the water might have had something to do with it. Writing about the bikini incident had brought it all back. A sheltered cove of white sand ringed by mountains… clear waters as blue as the sky… the little promontory that ran out into the bay and the dawn escape I would make every morning before my employers and their guests were awake. That was my time. I would be back before they stirred.
The sky had that peculiar opalescence you get only over the sea. Flowers, strange and exotic to my eyes, lined the short walk to the beach and the air was redolent with the heady fragrance of mimosa in full bloom. It had been my grandfather’s favourite flower and every spring, regardless of cost, a few sprigs would be brought home to be admired and to fill the little parlour with their scent. I had never imagined whole, beautiful trees covered with the yellow pom-pom flowers or the perfume of paradise in the air. The world was a place of wonder and every day brought new delights.
It was already warm before breakfast; little lizards that would skitter away with every footfall later in the day were just beginning to crawl out from their shelters to begin basking. No-one else was awake in the private cove and the sea was inviting. Every morning I would clamber out along the rocks of the promontory to a sheltered spot on the side that faced away from the beach towards the ocean. There was a low but sheer drop into a deep patch of water, perfect for diving. The bikini was ignored as I plunged into another world, peopled by strange and colourful fish, little squid and cuttlefish and a forest of fronds waving in the current. Magical.
It was a moment of pure bliss every day for the first two weeks… until the day I saw the shadowy shape of the sharks heading straight towards me…
I have never swum as fast or with as little grace.
Now, okay. Common sense and hindsight says they were only very small sharks and probably harmless. Honesty compels me to say that I didn’t hang around long enough to find out. Panic reasoned that small they may be… but what if they were just babies? And more to the point, where was Mum?
I stuck to the cove after that.
The only predators in the swimming pool today were teenagers. Just as scary in the water and probably more dangerous. The pool was so cold the goosebumps that installed themselves on entry refused to go away. I do not particularly like paying to freeze, but as, being the carer, I get into the public pool free of charge, I cannot complain. Or not loudly anyway. I did have a grumble about the inevitable ‘no diving’ signs but I was not really in a position to wander off.
Nick, however, was. In water deep enough to offer some buoyancy, he can walk perfectly well and unsupported… and I can blame the chlorine for my dampened eyes as I followed him into deeper water. It is nearly seven years since I walked with him like that.
I did have to remind my son that, being a foot taller than me, what was nicely deep enough for him was well over my head, until we reached a compromise where I could bob like a cork and keep breathing.
Nick used to swim well, but now has to learn all over again with reduced mobility. His hydrotherapists have concentrated their efforts on correct movement and technique. My main priority is just making sure he can get out of trouble, have fun and not drown.
We experimented. We found he can swim fairly well if he stays underwater, even if it isn’t elegant… but you can only stay underwater for so long. Floating is a problem still, as is treading water. We experimented some more and found a way for him to breathe, see and swim. It may not be pretty, but it works. Aiming for perfection is all very well, but sometimes getting it right for you is better and of more practical use.
I doubt I’d have gained many marks for style that morning in Corsica either.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Baby steps (or strokes) Sue!
And he’s taking them!
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He is… and barely seems to realise how awesome that is to see 🙂
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😊😊😊😊
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🙂
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You two quite literally take my breath away, as the love and care that is evident in every word is awe inspiring. I feel doubly grateful for witnessing it, so I thank both of you…
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Thank you. It is purely selfish… I’m not insured, so he’s not ready to drown me… and I’ve already planned his funeral once and he didn’t show up, so I’m not prepared to do it all again 😉 x
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and maybe you enjoy it, just a little bit?
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I might 😉
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I’ve never been able to float so if you and Nick develop a technique which works let me know. I’ve always been afraid of water and didn’t learn to swim until I was in my twenties. Even now I can only manage a (quite elegant) mummy breast stroke with my head held high out of the water. In fact, I can keep my glasses on when I swim and they don’t get wet!
How lovely that the buoyancy allows Nick to walk easily. This desire to swim again isn’t anything to do with a proposed trip to the land down under is it?
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I learned to swim when I was chucked in the deep end by friends who thought I already could. Panic is a wonderful teacher. That concept may run in the family.. 😉 I would be far happier knowing Nick can swim before he leaves… we have a little time to sort that yet 🙂
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Swimming with sharks does not appeal to me. I did swim with a giant turtle once which remains a treasured memory. I am glad your son gained some benefit from his swim as well as from the attention of his beautifully caring mother. By the way, I love the sign pictured at the end of the post. Whoever comes up with thinking we need these things 🙂
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I wouldn’t have minded so much had I thought about their possible presence in advance… but they did take me by surprise. Had I known they were just small and harmless, what a great opportunity to swim with them 🙂 As it was, I was too busy trying not to…
The sign is great, isn’t it? 😀
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Wait a minute. Back up a bit.
If I got this right… sharks played only a minor part of the risk involved in this endeavour… I have an image of ranks of pre-pubescent French boys, arranged along the cliff, wondering if you’d ever come out. Of course, throwing in a couple of baby sharks would eliminate any doubt… you DID check the cliff before leaving the water, right?… :p
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Do you know, I never thought to check, H 🙂 But doubtless, there were greater risks than sharks involved 🙂
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I don’t think I would have hung around to see where Mama shark was either! I love swimming and can understand why Nick would want to re-learn, for pleasure as well as safety. it must have been a wonderful moment watching him walking unsupported, Sue. I am sure you will get there with the floating! 🙂
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It was, Judy, and I’m really hoping he can get his legs to do what he wants in the water. Looking good so far 🙂
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That is heartening to know 😊
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🙂
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What a lovely image of the beach swim in Corsica – except perhaps for the sharks! Reminds me a lot of the Bahamas, where I lived for a while. I think Nick mentioned in one of his blogs that he was learning to swim again. I invited him to visit us during his upcoming meanderings and use our pool.
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Thank you so much, Noelle 🙂 Nick did remarkably well in the pool yesterday. A style guru might cringe, but both walking and swimming were great.
Corsica was heavenly…not for nothing do they call it the Isle of Beauty.
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Each step (or stroke) is a success. It seems that Nick can do just about anything he puts his mind to. On another note, isn’t it amazing how that water gets colder and colder as we age!
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He does seem to have that uncanny ability …or maybe it is just determination. 🙂
Yes it is, though in England at least I am sure they keep the temperature down so you don’t take up pool space for too long 😉
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Another leap for Nick – good for him. Does he plan on traveling alone? Brave man if he is. But I reckon wherever he goes, there’ll be scads of people around, relying on the kindness of strangers is not so hard.
Love that sign… duh! 🙂
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Yes, he plans on going it alone. You can imagine I have mixed feelings there, but I understand his reasoning and goals…and I know he will find both ways round the problems and kindness wherever he goes. 🙂
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You are an awesome mom 🙂 How long is he planning on going?
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Who knows? He is going to just go out there and see 🙂
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I told him he can stay here as long as he wants. We live in the country about 2 hrs. west of Boston, but there is a lot to do and see all around New England.
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I know New England is beautiful… I also know there is another enticement to visit in the form of Maple Cream. You should have seen his face… 🙂
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He’d definitely be in heaven. I’m sure Howard and Jeanne would be happy to show him the operation. He’d go crazy being surrounded by all that maple product -lol!
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Do they really feel they need to tell people not to breathe under water? Is that a problem? That worries me more than sharks and teenagers combined.
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I think you are right to see that as the main problem here 🙂
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