pool of tears

Yesterday at the pool I said out loud to my friend, Sandy, what I've been thinking for the past couple of years whenever I've gone swimming, which is that I've gotten over the tremendous sadness I'd always felt when swimming laps after Calvin was born. I'd felt it for years, cried a pool of tears with every visit, which is why I could never bring myself to going more than a few times each year before throwing in the towel. Last winter was the first time I felt free of those sorrowful feelings.

I suppose in a way it makes me think that perhaps time does heal all. That's not to say that the scars disappear, they might still be tender, numb or tingling when touched, but the wound has healed over some, isn't gaping and raw as it once was.

I've made a new kind of relationship with the water. In a way I've had to swim through it to get to the other side, just like grief itself. And so, the aches and pains I am feeling in the pool now are the result of a body nine years older and one that is ridiculously out of shape. But with any luck that hurt will pass soon, too, if I can just ... keep ... at it.

photo by Michael Kolster


  1. Oh, yes, do. Keep at it, that is. And keep at the healing, too.

  2. Christy,
    these words say so much about all the pain but also all the healing you are "swimming" through.