From Esther Chilton’s blog: Writing prompt – Water: What does that word conjure up for you? Walking along a canal? Splashing in a swimming pool or paddling in the sea? You could write about your own memories or create a story or poem. Perhaps there’s a water shortage, or the water supply is contaminated.
Swimming Lessons – by Hugh W. Roberts
Water was a source of terror for me. However, when I mustered the courage to join a beginners’ swimming club, it felt like a small victory over my fear.
Phil, the swimming instructor, was exceptional. Despite me being the oldest in the group, imagine how taken aback I was when he asked me out for dinner. It sparked an unexpected love story.
Three years later, not only were Phil and I married, but we were also very happy.
On the first occasion I brought him home, he seemed astounded that I’d never mentioned the indoor pool. “My husband had it built, mainly for the grandchildren,” I said.
Of course, the indoor pool terrified me, and I was scared that one of the grandchildren would drown in it.
“Well, now I can give you private lessons,” was his response. And how could I have refused an offer like that from somebody as handsome as Phil?
But water still terrified me. Even with Phil’s muscular arms around my body, all I did was panic when I was in the water.
Then, one day, Phil said he had a surprise for me—something that would go a little way to stopping me from fearing water. And he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t stop laughing when I saw the huge, inflatable pink flamingo floating in the pool. It symbolised our journey, a reminder of how far I had come. It was a testament to Phil’s love and support and the final push I needed to conquer my fear of water for good.
Unfortunately, while putting the inflatable away one day, I caught it and watched in horror as it deflated.
“Don’t worry, grandma, I’ll find another online,” my eldest grandson told me.
I ensured Phil was out when my grandson bought it over, inflated it, and told me he’d switched it on. Switched it on? He was the joker in the family! I always laughed at his jokes.
Phil had no idea about the replacement, but I had yet to realise it was slightly different.
One evening, after one too many glasses of champagne, Phil persuaded me to join him in the pool. Sitting on the inflatable helped calm my nerves, and it wasn’t until I felt the head of the flamingo that I realised not all of it was inflatable. But what fun we had. We laughed so much until I slipped off, and the inflatable drifted away. I panicked, especially as I watched Phil swim away to the otherside of the pool, get out, stand, and watch me drown.
Now, my fear of water has gone. But inflatable flamingos? That’s another story. They still make me jump every time I see one, a lingering reminder of the fear I once had and the love that never was that helped me almost overcome it.
Phil’s time could have been longer. It was only a matter of weeks before my grandson watched the CCTV footage taken through the eyes of the inflatable flamingo. There’s no point being the wealthiest widower in prison.
Written for Esther Chilton’s writing prompt – Water.
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