I couldn’t fall asleep Monday night. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of him standing on the bottom of the pool, water up over his head, eyes wide open, waving his arms up and down like a baby bird learning to fly. I couldn’t stop thinking about what that day might have become for us.
I went over to his room for the third time, checked his breathing, kissed him on the cheek.
Earlier that day, we sat in the 68-degree weather, holding our arms tight to our sides while the kids swam in my uncle’s heated pool. Sometimes, when a breeze blew over the water, steam actually rose from the surface. Not exactly what you hope for on Memorial Day weekend, but the kids were so excited to swim, so there we were.