I was reminded over the weekend of an incident that happened to me when I was 3 years old. My family was camping Rhode Island. My father had rented a camper and headed out for a campsite that sat between the ocean and bay. I don’t really recall the small details like what kind of camper, or exactly we where but I do remember what happened after we arrived at the campsite.
After we arrived I walked down to the waters edge with my yellow pail. I was having fun running into the water, gathering up some sand and water, and running back onto the shore to dump my bucket. On one run down to the water I fell. Not like a trip or an actual fall, but rather a drop. It was as if suddenly the bottom of the bay opened up and swallowed me. I dropped below the waters surface and nothing. I didn’t know what was happening to me or understand that I was in any kind of danger. I vaguely recall thrashing about and being really scared. Everything was black. I have no recollection of anything else nor do I remember losing the light.
What happened next has been told to me by my parents and my brother.
My father, who was about 300 yards away from me, recalls watching me while I played. My mother was nearby on the shore. My father has told me that he recalls having this instinctive feeling to just keep watching me as I played. Something about my playing near the water made him uneasy.
Soon after his initial feelings my father heard the yells of some nearby children and saw that they were pointing to the water. My father looked over to where I had been standing and didn’t see me. All he saw was a pile of blonde hair floating on the water. He ran to where I had been and blindly dove into water not sure of exactly where I was. He remembers asking God to help him. My father found me, grabbed me, and pulled me from the water. My lungs were filled with water, and I was frieghtened, but alive. My father saved my life.
I was reminded of this story by my mother, because of I recently refused to get into a family members swimming pool. I have a fear of water and have never really understood where that fear came from. It all makes sense to me now.
I guess I owe my dad a thank you!
Brown Study and Wool-Gathering 