Swimming, Counting, and Little Froggie

I woke up this morning at about 4:30 AM after Natalie called me having some tummy problems. I had to get her off her feeding tube and help her. She had a hard rock, the first in a few weeks. She was able to go back to sleep easily, but I lay awake not able to sleep. Weird since I didn't go to bed until after 1 AM and should've been tired. After laying there for more than an hour I figured it was a lost cause and I might as well get up and do something useful. Everyone was asleep, so I decided to go swimming.

It was still slightly dark when I arrived, but the water wasn't too cold. Swimming is somthing I really love doing. I have since I was a little. If I ascribed to the theory of reincarnation, I would want to come back as an otter or polar bear or something like that.

Something not many people know about me is that I like to count things. Even as a young child I would find myself randomly counting things, the number of seconds it took my feet to slide from the top of the wooden pew to the bottom at church. The number of wood pieces on the stand at church or the number of ceiling tiles above me at school. I think it is something I did when I was bored. It is funny that I like counting things since math is not my subject. As a teenager I had a job working in a receiving department where I had to count things to check them into inventory. I found that I really enjoyed that, it was relaxing to me to count. After doing that job for some time, I used to catch myself counting my steps when I would walk...without even realizing it. The funny thing is that I wouldn't even start at zero, I would just start at some random number and start counting. I don't think it was so much of an OCD type of thing as much as a rhythm thing.

That turns out to be one thing I really enjoy about swimming, counting my strokes. Very relaxing. I know I'm weird! I think that is the part that makes me enjoy freestyle. But my favorite stroke, no counting involved on this one, is the breast stroke. It is not nearly as intense and every single stroke you take you lift your entire head out of the water and then back in again. The sounds of your breath is very rythmic as well and the change in lighting from being above water to below it is very interesting.

Swimming outside happens to be the very best, the water is a deeper blue. When the sun is out, it creates the very best part...sparkles of light reflecting under water on the pool AND the traditional light of the sun when your head is above water. It is a hard combination to beat.

I was enjoying my swim this morning, me and the water. Alone with my counting, thoughts, and breathing. The only thing missing was the sun. Slowly the horizon began to lighten and I noticed something on one of my laps. Inside the pool gutter thing (I don't know what it is called) I saw something moving. Earlier I thought I heard something too. I looked in and discovered a little frog, about 5 inches long. The waves in the pool from the swimming kept churning him over and under. The flap is meant to close in a way so that things can come in but not go out. I knew he couldn't get out on his own and I figured he would die in there if he wasn't saved. For some reason I felt too nervous to stick my hand in there and just pull him out. I got my kickboard and tried to get him to climb on it. I was making kissing sounds at him and telling the 'Little Froggie' that it was ok to come out. (Yes, I was actually talking to the frog, that's just the kind of person I am). It didn't work, he didn't climb onto the kickboard and come out. There was a guy swimming at the other end of the pool and I asked him if he would mind getting the frog out since I still felt nervous to stick my hand into the dark unknown.

The man put Little Froggie on the edge of the pool and told me he might just jump back in. I began swimming again. The Little Froggie was sitting in the spot I had been swimming to, so each lap I made I was able to see him. I kept looking at him and thinking about him. At first I was nervous he would jump back in like the man had said. I thought about that and how that wouldn't be good for him, why would he jump back in when he had been in danger before?

Little Froggie stayed there, he seemed to be watching me too and not at all scared. I thought maybe I was supposed to be there this morning to save Little Froggie. Each lap I saw him and thought more about him. He did not go anywhere. I thought that maybe he was too tired. He had been treading water for a long time I am sure. I thought of our journey with Natalie and how we were treading water for a long time as well. It is amazing how long you can tread for; when you really need it the water might calm a bit but it will certainly get choppy again. Never REALLY able to rest.

Now that his ordeal was over, Little Froggie needed time to recover. I worried about him, if he would be ok in the end. Had I been too late? The interesting thing is that Little Froggie did not sit there completly motionless, he moved around in a little cirle, a half turn every few minutes. Never venturing a foot forward or backward, but just around. Maybe getting a view of what was around him. He couldn't have wanted to be sitting there at the edge of the pool completely exposed, with a crazy swimmer and some swooping birds nearby. But still he did not go, just changed direction every once in a while. Still resting I assumed.

I swam for 45 minutes like this. Looking at Little Froggie with each stroke, him looking at me. At one point his eyes closed and I really worried he wouldn't make it. When they opened back up again, they were no longer the all brillant black they had been. How interesting, there was now a fiery, sparkly red surrounding those brillant black eyes. Such knowing eyes. Like an old soul, like my Natalie. Now with a fire of experience. Still, I worried those eyes meant someething was wrong.

I felt like I could swim all day. Like I said, I love it and it is so relaxing. But, I know there are things to do and I really should be moving along. The sun had come up and I was sad because the brillant sparkling was not there under the water. I thought to myself that maybe it was just a Tucson thing because the sun is so bright there, or maybe it was too early in the morning and a mid-day sun was needed. Still I kept swimming, not quite able to drag myself away. Just a little longer I told myself. The sun was reflecting on the top of the pool, a beautiful orange color. Gorgeous! I had finished my cool down and was just spending the extra time doing the breast stroke. Blue...orange, blue...orange, blue...orange...just beautiful.

Blue...orange...sparkly blue...orange-- I looked up, the sun had just peeked out the side of the home in the distance. The sun was on the horizon before, but it hadn't been high enough before to make the sparkly reflections under water. In fact, since the sun was only peeking around the corner of the house, only the sliver of the pool had the sparkling reflections...the part I was swimming in and where Little Froggie was sitting. I made it back to the other end of the pool and thought about how if Little Froggie stayed there for too long he would get very hot and dry out. I had already decided that when I was done I would put him over in the bushes to make sure he was protected, but I still worried because he was sitting there soooooo long, would he make it?

I began the next lap, swimming towards the sun. Beautiful orange...sparkly blue, orange...sparkly blue--words of a song came into my head, "here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun again...."

Not too long after Natalie finished her most intense chemo, we attended a family camp for kids with cancer called Camp Sunshine. There was a show one night and a lady was singing, just her and her guitar. She sang about the sun coming. I remember tears coming to my eyes, I was catching hold of hope. Natalie was starting to do better, still not great, but much better than where we had been. We had been almost broken and hope was slowly blossoming in our hearts again. Here comes the sun...do do do do...here comes the sun...

As I was swimming back I saw Little Froggie take three steps to one side. Then he stopped again. Here comes the sun...do do do do...here comes the sun...

I swam several more laps enjoying the effects of the sun on the pool, but Little Froggie still sat in his new place.

Another lap coming back, Little Froggie was gone. I didn't see him, he had been close to the edge...maybe he jumped back in the water. I looked around and didn't see him in the water. I scanned a little more and saw him 20 feet away. Wow, he suddenly went a long way. I thought about it...it took the sun, but it also took time. Time to rest, time to circle and evaluate, and even once he was able to start moving he couldn't go the whole distance at once.

Maybe healing is like that. It was like that for Natalie with her abdominal pain. I so badly wanted it to just suddenly disappear, it took so long but slowly we got a handle on it. A little at a time. Amazingly, kids hearts and actions recover as soon as their bodies feel good but I don't think it is that way for adults. I have been circling and evaluating for some time. My heart needs to heal, weird to say and acknoweldge, but it is true. I was treading for a long time. As much as I wish I could flip a switch and suddenly be better, it isn't that way. Little Froggie taught me that it takes time, sometimes more time than we think it should...a little at a time. I am looking forward to taking those bigger leaps that Little Froggie suddenly made. I am trying to write Natalie's story since I did not do that most of the time she was in treatment. I think it will be healing for me. I am slow at it, but that is ok. I know the day will come when I will jump forward, but for now at least I have started making those small leaps forward.

When I was in Utah last month I heard my sister-in-law tell a story about Natalie. I loved listening to her recollections and her perceptions of events. I asked her to write it down and I told her I would share it. If any of you have any stories or memories of Natalie during her journey that you would like to write and share, I would love that. It will help me as I continue to record my memories of her journey.

I stood at the edge of the pool and watched Little Froggie finish his journey to the safety of the bush outside the fence. He went straight to it. I had planned to help him when I finished, not really sure he would be able to make it. Now, after seeing him do it on his own, I cheered inside and knew he would be ok.

Maybe I wasn't there so much for Little Froggie...maybe Little Froggie was there for me.