Pool Daze

Ever feel the calmness of holding your breath until the world slowly starts to fade away? There is a certain warmth and stillness that is unique. No movement, to exist but not to breathe. Growing up asthmatic I knew what it was like to be dizzy and pained when trying to breathe. I would hold my breath sometimes because to inhale was too painful to take. My parents put me in swimming as a child for the summer and many summers after that. A place where little boys like me could hold their breath as a sport. They were well meaning, hoping to make me stronger, exercise me into wellness. My father was a sickly child like me; I had good drugs, unlike him. I loved it in the water, the silence, the stillness.

I floated in the blood temperature water holding my breath. It was a game. We used to dare each other to hold our breaths underwater and the last one up won. I always won. If you ever have a chance, take a child and hold them underwater, watch them smile, then their eyes get nervous and wide, great big white eyes. Then they twitch and struggle and you can see the animal in the back of the mind screaming “Give me air.” Terror takes over and they flail for air screaming with their eyes. I watched this happen over and over, underwater. I watched fear take over and the will to win lose. I never lost.

I lived with the fear everyday, I knew death at 4 and 5. He was the can of Lysol my teacher sprayed, a game of football, the field of wild flowers, the exhaust of a car going by. They could kill me as easily as a noose tied around my neck. I watched their little blue faces in fascination and horror, their silent screams, clawing up and out. I always won. Fear was an old friend of mine and he and death kept me company many a dark night alone in my bed when I woke struggling for air.