Why I Don't Swim

Hawaii

I like splashing around in the water at the pool and at the beach. I will float in the shallow end of the pool on a super hot day. But I'm not putting my face in the water because I can't really swim.

OK, I learned the fundamentals in high school, but that is where I was initially traumatized. The teacher had us swimming back and forth in the shallow end so that if we got into trouble we could simply stand up and get ourselves together. I did pretty well in this part of the class, but next we were expected to swim from the shallow end to the deep end. That's when calamity struck.

I was out there in the middle of the pool and when I realized I was in the middle of the pool, I panicked and went under. Yikes. I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about it. Someone dived in and dragged me out. My short life flashed before my eyes. I don't remember if I finished the class our not, the rest is a blur.

Fast forward to about 5 years later. I'm hanging out in the pool with friends. Apparently I'd completely forgotten that I couldn't really swim. I flailed around out there in the middle of the pool again and I went under. Again. I've got a bit more life to flash before my eyes now. One of my friends dived in and dragged me out. What was I thinking?

Now people say to me, "Oh, you just need to get over your fear of the water." Yeah, right. I find I can live a full and complete life without ever having to learn how to swim. Really.

A few years ago in Hawaii, I was splashing around in the water at Turtle Bay Resort. Lovely place, all warm and sunshiny. The ocean was just steps away from our villa. There was no way I was going to miss this experience. I was looking for turtles. I was in shorts and flip flops. The tide was low. I walked out a couple feet into the water. Nice. Then one of my flip flops slipped off. I tried to put my foot back into the shoe and the tide rose. I was soaked and nearly washed away!

The hubby was off playing golf. When I told him later what happened, he was glad he didn't have to try to explain to my mother that I had been washed away in the ocean. (She likes to keep track of me. She once nearly called her policeman friend in L.A., when she couldn't reach me on the phone from St. Louis, and have him hunt me down. But that's another story.)

Anyway, now I'm pretty firm in the fact that I can't really swim. I will continue to splash in the shallow end, but my preference is in lounge chair by the pool sipping a drink with an umbrella in it.