My Memorable Drowning Moment
Today, for my personal development, my mind slipped back to the summer I learned to swim in deep water. In the summer 1963, I loved to hang with my friends on the weekend at a swimming pool in my town. I was a boy – maybe fourteen-years-old, and Joan was my girl companion. My memorable drowning story shows how obstacles can be overcome, fears can be strengths, and sometimes an accident becomes an opportunity. It’s a story that changed my belief: “If you believe that anything is possible, there are amazing adventures awaiting you.”
I had deep-water phobia because I had a mind-set that the water would choke my throat, and I might die under water. At this point she remarked to me, “If you want my loving attention,
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And so, Joan was really sweet and paid attention to me from the beginning. Joan got in the water with me and promised that she would swim right alongside of me. Finally, on the last day, Joan said, “Today is the day I want you to swim across the pool all by yourself. I’ll stand right over there. And I promise, if you get into trouble, I will jump in that water and bring you to the side. Will you try?
When I hit the water, my first reaction was to begin dog-paddling. But I heard Joan’s voice, and I saw her standing across the pool. “You can do it!” she yelled. I began to kick my legs as I had been taught, and I slowly began to breathe as I stretched out my arms, cupped the water, and began to swim. Thanks to Joan, I had done it.
My memorable drowning incident will always be an experience I will never forget. From this experience I also learned to never give up on the things I want to do. I remember how Joan was there to help me on swimming in deep water. I may have been fourteen years old, but I decided to overcome the barriers of deep water. In addition, I believed in myself that I could master my swimming skills. I often visited the swimming pool and developed my skills with different styles: butterfly, dog and frog. Great wonder, joyfulness and excitement replaced my deep-water
“My misfortunes?” Ned asked. “I don’t know what you mean.” “Why, we heard that you’d sold the house and that your poor children . . .” “I don’t recall having sold the house,” Ned said, “and the girls are at home.” “Yes,” Mrs. Halloran sighed. “Yes . . .” Her voice filled the air with an unseasonable melancholy and Ned spoke briskly. “Thank you for the swim.”” even as his neighbor are expressing their sympathies for his dire situation with his family. He continues swimming, not realizing the realities of the situation for many months, viewing the entire time as one afternoon.
"The Swimmer." Short Stories for Students. Ed. Kathleen Wilson. Vol. 2. Detroit: Gale, 1997. 278-294. Gale Virtual Reference Library. Web. 29 Jan. 2014.
It was a very cool day, overcast with a drip of rain here and there. Waves were vicious, water was as cold as the arctic, and my weak body was always being compared to a pencil. I began my swim as I attempted to avert the waves but, I seemed impossible. They kept pushing me back, yelling at me to go back to the beach, today is not your day. The waves, they swept me away with ease. I was a squirrel in a dog's mouth, a ragdoll, being tossed every which way. Tossed off balance underwater, I was baffled. My lungs whimpered for air, my body slowly drifting away. The aspect was blackening, the whole world spinning in circles, then, I felt weightless…
...as I began to walk in the water every imperfection on my body burned as the salt cleansed my skin. Knee high in the Dead Sea and my body even then began to feel weightless- the water carried me. 3 feet deep and no matter how much I tried to touch the bottom, I couldn’t. No one was splashing because if the salt got in your eyes it would be an unbearable burning feeling. For the first time all senior year I felt like I wasn’t in control. I let the water carry me. There wasn’t fear, I didn’t worry about getting carried out to far, nothing lived in the water so no matter how far I went, nothing could pull me under. For the first time all year I wasn’t worried about graduation, finals, or even college. It took me dipping my toes into something big and scary to finally feel relaxed and at peace with myself.
“I’ve often wondered what it would be like if we taught young people swimming the same way we teach sexuality. If we told them that swimming was an important adult activity one they will all have to be skilled at when they grow up, but we never talked with them about it. We never showed them the pool . . . but when they asked a question about how swimming felt or what it was about, they would be greeted with blank or embarrassed looks . . . Miraculously, some might learn to tread water, but many would drown” (11).
“The Swimmer,” a short fiction by John Cheever, presents a theme to the reader about the unavoidable changes of life. The story focuses on the round character by the name of Neddy Merrill who is in extreme denial about the reality of his life. He has lost his youth, wealth, and family yet only at the end of the story does he develop the most by experiencing a glimpse of realization on all that he has indeed lost. In the short story “The Swimmer,” John Cheever uses point of view, setting and symbolism to show the value of true relationships and the moments of life that are taken for granted.
Without delay, I sunk right back in the water. My doubts began coming back to me, making me realize I might of been over my head on this one, but I persisted. I reached surface again and began swimming towards the rightmost shore. It wasn’t the best journey, as I kept bobbing in and out of the water, but I managed to reach the shore. The moment I got stood back on my own feet I stood back on them as a new man; I enjoyed the danger I just experienced, besides drinking a hefty amount of lake
Have you ever had a moment in time that seems like minutes or hours even though it was only a few seconds? Have you ever seen everything before you play out in slow motion, where you are aware of everything around you, yet not knowing what was going on? I have, and as I look back on it, I feel very blessed and protected. On March 21, 1987, I decided to take a little swim in our swimming pool and almost drowned.
It was finally time to swim. I finally came up with a plan and decided to swim in the deep side of the pool even though I didn’t know how to swim. I knew it would work but I was also scared. As I walked to the swimming pool, everyone laughed at me again for wearing a speedo. I dived into the deep side of the pool and noticed everyone was staring at me in amazement. Then I swam up and hung onto the side of the pool. Everyone was shocked and puzzled. Even the girl I liked looked surprised.
Swimming has been my whole life, since I jumped into the pool for the very first time. I loved every aspect of swimming from the adrenaline running through my body during my races and getting to spend even more time with my friends and my sister, and the stress of big meets coming up in the schedule. Except everything didn't go according to plan after the first day of school when I got home and I saw my parents sitting by my sister on the coach and my sister was crying.
When I was a university student about two years ago, I enrolled in a scuba diving course. My scuba diving teacher had a big surprise: I didn’t know how to swim. In fact, I had a big fear of water. When I was a child, my parents tried to help me, so they made me take many swimming courses. Although I tried hard, I did not learn to swim. When I enrolled in the scuba diving course, I was still afraid of water. Every day when I entered the swimming pool, I battled with my fear. Fortunately, my courage won every time. Finally, one day while I was practising my dive, I realized that I did very well. So, finally, after six months of hard work, I completed the course. It is true that I was always the worst of the group, but in my own evaluation,
At the age of 16 I began looking into competitive swimming techniques, teaching myself each stroke and repeating them; wanting to be better than just a doggy paddle and a deep breath underwater. My junior year of high school, I
I remember a time in my life not too long ago when my family and I went white water rafting for the first time. We had been spending some of our summer vacation at a cabin in the Smokey Mountains, close to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The next day we would experience feelings of exhilarating excitement, with a sense of suspense and anticipation as we rafted down the Nantahala River.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.
The sun is radiant and scorching, as always when it’s August in Michigan, while the lake water is warm with occasional ripples flowing through as the wind subtly blows over. I’ve got my giant pink floaty around my waist with my ridiculously large bug-eyed sunglasses around my face and I’m ready to set myself afloat into the water. As I float on my raft into the warm water I close my eyes while the waves relax me into a soft slumber as I drift into the middle of lake. Without knowing how much time has passed, I awaken to the sound of Alicia’s mom yelling my name and automatically panic,