For Memory's Sake

The horror of Sunday's scare is receding ever-so-slowly from the forefront of my mind. Most of the time, I'm OK...as I see Josiah go about the business of being a boy, as I watch him run and play and talk and laugh, as we do school together and feed the animals together and read Charlotte's Web together...I think repeatedly, "He's fine. He's here. Everything turned out OK. You can relax now." But that's easier said than done, especially at random moments when the "what ifs" surge forward and crowd out other happier thoughts.

One of the things that sort of just makes me shake my head at myself is how affected I've been by all of this, despite the happy ending. I mean, for goodness' sake, Josiah didn't drown. He's alive. He's not even sick. Everything really is OK. And it wasn't as if we waited in agony for hours, not knowing what the outcome would be. It all happened so fast--in fact, so quickly that almost as soon as I knew there was a problem, Jeff had fixed it. But in those seconds, I was changed...and my recovery isn't complete.

I want to write down the details so that, when Josiah asks in years to come, "Will you tell me about the time I almost drowned?" I'll be able to share this with him. I look forward to actually encouraging him with this as he is reminded that God saved him when he could have died--and saved him for a purpose.

I don't know how far I'll get with this tonight, but here we go...

After the service and baptisms at Highland Retreat on Sunday, we shared a potluck meal with the church; and after the boys (Josiah and David) had eaten, we let them go down to play in the creek with some of their friends while we finished our food. Ironically enough, Jeff and I talked during that time about how much more freedom we allowed Josiah here than we ever did in Israel. When we lived there, Josiah was much younger, of course, so obviously didn't have the same level of freedom that he does now; but even so, we stuck out like a sore thumb because of our hyper-vigilant parenting. Maybe because the language and culture were so different, we never got to the point of relaxing with him when in a public place like so many of our friends there did with their children. And Israel is actually a very "safe" place, as far as street crime goes. It's truly much safer than many parts of the USA, except for terrorism. But as far as parents letting their children "wander," a lot more of that goes on there than we were comfortable with for Josiah.

Anyway, Jeff and I were discussing this, and observing that we had changed, from strict to lenient. Little did we know that that very afternoon, we would realize the danger of too much freedom...and would see the need to change again.

After some time, the boys came back from the creek and asked to go to the pool. We told them that they couldn't go without us, even though some of the other children/youth were going, so we started packing up our stuff to move in that direction. We decided that Jeff would go ahead with Josiah and David; and I would finish gathering our things, put them in the minivan, then drive down to the pool area with Tobin to meet the others. Jeff, Josiah, and David left for the pool; and I took my time getting ready to go. I stopped to chat with several people, I let Joy Showalter carry Tobin and asked her to meet me at the pool, then I slowly drove down to the pool area, being conscious of the children who were biking there and sensing the danger that they could be in from the vehicle traffic.

Meanwhile, Jeff and the boys were in the big pool together; and they discovered that Josiah could stand up and touch the bottom in the shallow end. After a while, they decided to go to the kiddie pool where it was more fun for David and where the water was warmer. At some point, one or more of the older girls asked if they could take Josiah back over to the bigger pool; and Jeff agreed.

When I got to the pool, if I remember correctly (and these details do feel hazy), I walked over to the fence and had Tobin in my arms since Joy had given him back to me. Apparently, she then asked if I would like her to keep him longer and even walk him around in his stroller (since we weren't leaving for home immediately) so we went back to the minivan and I got the stroller out of the back and set it up. We put Tobin in it and had to adjust the back of the seat since he normally sits in the carseat placed into the stroller, but this time was just sitting in the stroller. He still looked a little funny, hunched over a bit; but I didn't mess with it anymore and simply let Joy and Alyssa Eby walk back to a cabin and push Tobin along (who was extremely tired and easily fell asleep in it, which was great).

This is the part where we clearly see God working. This is where we know the angels must have been pushing me along. This is where I lose my breath and my heart races each time I think about it. This is where a big "what if" comes into play.

If I had spent more time adjusting Tobin in the stroller...if I had talked longer with Joy and Alyssa...if I had taken the time to get something out of the minivan...if I had stopped to chat with anyone else, etc...what would have happened?

At this point, I walked back over to the fence, right outside the kiddie pool. Jeff was sitting there with his feet in the water, taking care of David who was splashing around happily and playing with the other kids. I started my mental head count (which must be second nature for moms); and apparently I asked something like, "Where is Josiah?" or "Who is taking care of Josiah?" Then I saw him, and I think in the first second, I saw his face above water...but in the next instant, I knew he was in distress. I exclaimed incredulously, "Can he reach the bottom of the pool?" knowing the answer already (he had drifted from the shallow end into the area where the pool begins to gradually get deeper). I felt absolute terror take possession of me. Jeff meanwhile hurled himself through space, ran into an obstacle at the gate of the kiddie pool as someone was trying to close it, thought he would have to jump across the fence, half-yelled "let me through, let me through" or something like that, finally got out, rushed to the big pool, jumped in, and grabbed Josiah. Somewhere along the way, he knocked a water polo goal into the pool; and someone else must have retrieved that because that was the last we thought of it. Jeff carried Josiah out of the pool, and took him to a bench where they sat and Jeff held Josiah on his lap with a towel around him. Josiah was crying, and I was unutterably glad to hear it. Six years ago, I rejoiced to hear his first cry as a newborn; but this time, his cry brought even more relief to me. Josiah was saying, "I'm going to die, I'm going to die," and we sought to reassure him that he was indeed safe--safe in his daddy's arms. After he calmed down, Jeff offered to go into the pool with him since we didn't want him to develop a deep fear of the water--the whole get-back-on-the-horse-that-just-bucked-you-off thing--but Josiah said wearily that he just wanted to go home. He didn't want to talk to his friends or say goodbye or anything: just go home.

Enough for now...more tomorrow?