Swimming

I feel like I am walking underwater. I feel the heaviness, the knowing that no matter how hard I try, the going will still be slow. Colby used to call this sensation the underwater space walk.

Colby learned to swim when he was very young, the summer before his third or fourth birthday. We'd spend time at my Mom's and walking down the garden steps to the lake was a daily occasion. Sometimes twice, or three times a day. Back here in Tennessee, in the summer, we'd spend one weekend at Opryland and the next at Cheatham Lake. It was at Cheatham Lake, a wide spot in the Cumberland River, that Colby first talked about how some things, like writing and math, were for him, like an underwater space walk.

We all have our struggles. Colby had far more than his share. Since Colby passed it seems that everything is a struggle. It all gets done, but life is running in slow motion. Everyday tasks take forever. What used to be easy is now so hard.

This all causes me to focus harder. To pay more attention to detail. To double check everything I do. Those are not bad things in and of themselves, but I so wish the reason for me having to do them were different. My one consolation is that Colby is no longer swimming the underwater space walk. Now, he is flying. He is as fast as light. He is free.