Thanking My Mother for Swimming Lessons
- Wren Jones
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
The relief of jumping free
of gravity, joy in the rising
kicking away
the confines of girl,
bubbles for breath
as if
you had become
a new species
turquoise and sparkling
dipping under only to find yourself
forever buoyed up
I want to thank you my mother,
for the water and the wild
you gave me
hours in a shallow river,
small hands crawling
over golden sand
my body trailing behind,
baby gator pouncing
on big sisters and brothers
swimming around me.
I want to thank you
for dropping me
at the community pool
in wintertime, each week
and after, my hair frozen,
swinging my suit in plastic bag,
content waiting for you—
you were always late,
four kids, jobs, groceries.
I was a gangly kid at twelve,
tripping over my fresh stretched limbs
slouching my shoulders
scared of this bigger self emerging
a fish out of water,
I’d put my speedo on,
dive into belonging.
You helped me
become a lifeguard,
then swimming instructor -
a ticket to part time jobs,
to freedom
camp swim counsellor,
a lifeguard in the mountains
outdoorsy friends and fresh water
that kept me together
my teenage self, falling apart.
Thank you mother,
for your steady rowing beside me
on your beloved river
training for races and medals
in long distance swims.
Walking home from the Y today,
wet hair, cool breeze, bag swinging
knots left behind
along those black lines
I think of you, my practical mother
who didn’t hug or kiss cheeks
but gave me this gift of water—
it has saved me from drowning
over and over again.
__________
NaPoWriMo prompt: In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.
