Being at an age of exploration and testing of limits, I was always going too far, never learning moderation. Swimming in Cow Creek-a few miles out of Roseburg, Oregon- my family and I, along with my cousin and aunt, were enjoying the warm lazy summer day, though there was no blue sky. Being scared of my poor swimming abilities, my parents had made me wear a lifejacket.
As time has a way of doing, it melted away as my one-year-older cousin and I relished a day of warmth and water. We splashed and squealed, searched for creatures, and tested how deep we could go. Eventually my mom gave the inevitable call to come out of the water. My cousin and I, being ones to pretend we never heard the ending call of fun, waded our way to the calm pool section of the moving river. A section of the river where the current was almost not present and the bottom was just one giant, smooth, level stone.
Trying to walk around the painfully sharp and slippery stones, I went too close to the center of the river and within a second, I reached the drop-off near the middle of the river. One second, I was looking at my cousin behind me; and in the next, I saw the water surge above my eyes and felt the unbuckled lifejacket float over my head. Panic and regret went through my head and I was starring threw the river water up at the rippling sky. Head pointing upward I could see the bright cloudy sky and feel the air on my fingertips.
Time seemed to yield, causing me to view and feel everything in slow motion. Occasionally I could feel my cousin trying to grab my hand. Bubbles leaving my mouth and nose caused me to try to breathe water. Feeling the heavy liquid in lungs, I was slipping in the struggle to leave the water depth and about to end the fight.
As suddenly as it happened, I felt a desperate and determined hand grab mine. A surprising heave pulled me back to the shallow part of the river. The first sight that struck my stinging eyes was my cousin’s unusually distressed countenance. Silent tears were in her baby blue eyes and an amazed grin was on her face.
In a heave of pain from my lungs, I felt the water finally leave me taking with it some of my stomach acid, burning the already painful moment. Once more I took a deep breath of air, somewhat unsure whether or not it was real.
Afterward, I kept playing in water, but demanded to be taught how to swim to prevent a re-enactment. Submerging my head still causes me to panic in the first few seconds, but it passes in intensity. The event taught and gave me two things. It taught me to be careful and learn to be aware of my limits, but find a way to overcome them. After taking in all the water, it gave me a good lesson on breathing deeply of air and marveling in it.