“… can you help me sir?”

I’ve been going to Carlsbad beach for our family vacation since the early 90s. My Mom, Dad, sisters, cousins, aunties and uncles would all show up. This year, I was privileged to bring both of the kids into that tradition.

We played at the beach and “swam,” in the ocean. A few times the kids were pummeled by waves and Gordie actually caught a wave. He was just as surprised as I was. But I stood close to them each time we drew closer and deeper into the water. Mostly because when I was 8, I got caught in a riptide.

Throughout the year, I would save portions of my money from mowing lawns and buy a boogie board at Target the day we arrived to Carlsbad. I loved to boogie board. As I grew older and braver I went farther into the water and eventually reached the points where my feet could no longer touch the sand beneath. I would float, wait for waves and paddle to catch them. But the day I was caught in the riptide was different.

It took me much farther out than I had ever been. The waves were crashing harder and despite all my panicked efforts to swim to shore, I couldn’t find my wave. My arms and legs grew tired from paddling and I became weaker. I was panicking. I cried and looked for someone to help but there wasn’t a life guard or someone on shore to help. When all felt lost, a surfer appeared behind me. I said, “can you help me sir?” He laughed because I called him sir and he was probably only 17. I said, “I can’t swim in.” He said, “you need to paddle the other direction.” He guided the boogie board and waited for the right wave. He yelled to me, “paddle, paddle.” I gave what little energy I had and felt overwhelming relief as I caught a wave long enough to touch my feet on the ocean floor again.

That’s how I learned to swim through the struggles of a riptide. Along the current. But lie sometimes has me wondering what would have happened if I fell adrift to the ocean. I wonder if I could have eventually found the shore again.

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