Sunday, June 17, 2012

water skiing then and now

The chill stole my breath as I slid off the back of the boat and into the water.  I bobbed up and down hoping the movement would help the wetsuit to hurry up and work already.  Dad had had the foresight to grab it before we pulled away from the dock.  I'm so grateful one of us knew what he was doing.  Missouri lake water in May isn't all that bad when you're ten.  Unfortunately my circulation isn't quite what it used to be.

I tried to relax but it was difficult wrestling the ski into position while waiting for the boat to bring the rope around.  Doubt slithered through my mind like the rope through my hand.  It's been a seven year hiatus from water skiing.  The sun's setting fast.  If I pull a hamstring how in the world will I haul Hope around?  Or survive the long drive home?  There is no worker's comp in my field of work.  The chilly water wasn't the only thing that caused my hands to shake as I gripped the handlebar.

But Dad believed in me.  And if anyone could get this mama of two up on a water ski, it was him.  He can drive a boat better than most with one hand tied behind his back.  Heaven knows I contributed to his many hours logged at the helm.

I remember the summer I was determined to learn how to slalom ski.  We were out there for hours.  Everyone else had gone inside, tired of watching me fall over and over again.  It was just Dad and me.  Each time I crashed he would pull the boat back around, ready to try again.  Sometimes he gave me a pointer.  Not once did he criticize or try to talk me into quitting for the day.  We stayed at it until I emerged from the water on one ski.  Mission accomplished and a victory for us both.

This time it took two tries.  The boat powered forward, the water sprayed my face and for a minute I was transported back to the summer weekends we spent at the lake.  They are the crown jewels of my childhood.

As Dad zipped the grown up me around the lake it hit me.  Attempting to ski wasn't so much about seeing if I could still do it, it was wanting to relive one of my best memories from growing up in my family.  The strain on my legs, the wind whipping my hair, the roar of the boat.  It didn't disappoint.

Thanks for believing in me Dad.  And thanks for taking me skiing- then and now.

Happy Father's Day!

No comments:

Post a Comment