The Tides of Change
I am not a beach person. I have never learned to swim, even though I tried! Really, I tried! I firmly believe that we can learn many things, but some just aren’t meant to be. For example, I have an ear for languages. At this point, I don’t speak anything but English. I lost my Spanish fluency, but I can still understand and read it.
Similarly, I can pick up languages if I travel. Since I love the sound of French, I could speak a little when I went there. Most Romance languages come easily. I have tried Chinese and am convinced my mouth isn’t shaped right to pronounce any of it! I fare better at first hearing the word without looking at the way it is written. Anyway, back to the beach! I have gone into the ocean, but only ankle-deep. It’s more than the fear of sharks or sea creatures. It’s the pull of the tides and the grip of the currents. I think my fear emanates from two sources. First, as a little girl playing in the sand at Coney Island in Brooklyn, my father came running up from the water, and my sister was at his side.
My mother was sitting in a beach chair under an umbrella when she saw my dad running towards us. Over his shoulder, she could see a huge wave approaching. My father grabbed me from the sand and threw me over his shoulder. I never saw my mom move so fast. I looked around, and everyone on the beach ran away from the water. I saw it coming, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Everyone, well at least everyone I could see, made it to the boardwalk before the wave hit. The news called it a baby tidal wave. The water crashed against the boardwalk where we had all taken cover underneath. Water was reported across all the parking lots in the area. I’m not sure what I saw. It was mighty, and it wanted to get me! It coincided with us not going back to the beach for years.
After that experience, I went to visit my family in New Jersey. They lived near Lake Hiawatha. It was a lovely day. Two of my adult male cousins decided to give me a ride on a raft. I jumped on, and it was fun. They stopped for a minute and told me they were just going to look at something at the bottom of the water and that I should stay put. They emphasized they would only be gone a minute. I got bored waiting for them, went to the raft's edge, and looked over. I fell in.
Luckily, they were just returning from wherever and fished me out before anything could happen.
Finally, one summer at camp, I was determined to learn how to swim. I went into the lake and was able to stay afloat. It was an accomplishment. Not quite swimming, but I could tread water!
Years later, on our cheapo trips phase, we went to Bermuda. We were at a hotel and met another couple. We were all standing near the shore in the beautiful crystal-clear water. I was facing out toward the sea. Once again, I saw a wall of water approaching. I called it to everyone’s attention, but it came so quickly we couldn’t get out of the way. The wave hit. I was Ok. I held my breath and waited for the water to calm down. I jumped up and, at first, saw no one else. Finally, the other woman and the other man. I desperately looked around for my husband and heard a soft help! He had cramped. The other man and I went to get him, and as we hit the shore, the second of the big waves hit. We just stood our ground till it passed us. That was it! Little warnings tell me to stay out of the water. If I ever witnessed an honest-to-goodness tidal wave, I would freeze in place and let it take me wherever it wanted to go.
When I say I’m going to the beach, I mean to a beach house, and I never go into the water.
Let me digress for a moment. When my husband and I were dating, we went to the beach. I didn’t go into the water but wore an adorable two-piece bathing suit.
We were with some other people playing around with a beach ball. It was thrown to me rather high. I reached up as high as I could and caught the ball. Unfortunately, the top of my bathing suit went up with me but didn’t come down. My husband, almost as embarrassed as me, ran for a towel. He shielded me as I readjusted my suit!
I hate the beach!