I was drowning. Or so I thought. My head kept bobbing under and I was taking in gulps of lake water again and again. My broad-shouldered dad was right there, an arm’s reach away. But he didn’t let me get close enough to hold on to him. He just looked me straight in the eye with a twinkle and told me not to swallow the whole lake. My mom was on the shore yelling at him to help me. “Jon!” He knew I could do it. And I did. I wasn’t drowning at all. I was learning how to swim.
Kathryn Masso is a writer and global nomad. She uses writing to unwind and explore the wild world of her inner imagination.