The Never Ending Swim

The flight the night before was long. My mother, although not very fond of the beach, accompanied me on this trip. I convinced her that she needed to get away.  She didn’t know how to swim but she figured she could lay on the beach and read a book or chat it up with the locals.

We were tired and were glad to finally reach the island.  The air was humid and dense.  But I welcomed it.  It was nice break from the blistering cold back in the states. We got to the apartment we had rented and unpacked a bit. We settled into our beds and fell asleep.

The light of morning woke us up.  The only alarm that was set was the one on the coffee maker.  We were officially on vacation.  I walked outside onto our deck. It faced the beach. The wind was blowing warmly into our apartment.  The sounds of the waves hitting the sand near us was hypnotic.  This was paradise.  My mother had never experienced a real vacation.  Her vacations involved my brother and I in some silly amusement park, mostly fighting.  Our first day here would be one we would never forget.

My mother and I got dressed in our bathing suits.  I hadn’t seen my mother wear one since I was a little girl.  She hated the water. That included pools.  They scared her. She decided to dip her feet in the water. When she had enough she sat under a large palm tree and read her book while I went for a swim.

I was about 20 yards away from the shore.  The ground began to shake.  People began to scream.  I swam back to the beach and ran to my mother’s side.   The ocean began to rise.  We didn’t have any time to escape it.  It swallowed the beach as we stood on it.  I cried for my mother.  She couldn’t swim.  I tried to stay calm so that she wouldn’t panic.  We managed to stay afloat together.  The currents became stronger.  I held as long and hard as a I could. Why is this happening? Is the world ending? I couldn’t believe all the devastation that was happening around me. My arms were slipping from under my mother.  We screamed.  Then she was ripped from my grasp.  I watched as the water took her in.  She was gone.  I can’t believe it. Tears run down my face. I try to look for her. I’m yelling for her. I then wake up. It was a nightmare. Something that I have dreamed about many times.  I know my mother is at home in her bed. Far from the thing she fears the most.  This is not the first time that I have had this dream.  This is reoccurring and it’s always with different people.  All of us drowning. Unable to help each other.  I am relieved to be awake and alive.

 

 

 

 

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