Taking a Dive

This morning, I watched my little girl stand on a diving board. You need a mental picture - we're at the Marist College pool, where Caty is taking her second week of swim class. There are banners hanging from the rafters touting the school's triumphs in the MAAC and NCAA. I'm getting visions of my daughter gliding through the pool on her way to a trophy while I sit in the bleachers cheering her on. The reality? Total fear. You can see it in her eyes, the way she stands, it's rippling through her. This girl won't even jump into deep end of the pool unless someone is there to catch her. It's bad enough that her lessons take place in 12 feet of water. She doesn't understand that swimming is the same in four feet as it is in 10 feet. She had told me that morning that she didn't want to even go to swim class and there was no way in a million years that she would jump off the diving board. The whole class, I pretend not to watch her. I see how stiff she is. I know everything she is doing wrong. I wish she would understand that if she would just relax, she would be swimming like a fish in no time. But, I read my book. I grit my teeth. I talk to myself. I ask God to give her courage. She is filled with dread. I see her standing on that board waiting for the girl ahead of her to swim to the side. The longer Caty waits, the more apprehensive she gets. Then, she starts edging farther out onto the board. She's almost at the end. So, I've got my phone out and start taping. I can't wait for her to jump and send it to everyone. I'm filled with anticipation. I'm so happy. And wouldn't you know, the moment that little girl jumps off the board??? Some guy walks right in front of me!!! I'm not sending everyone pictures of this guy's back, so I'm praying Caty will jump again next week!