Darpook No More

Before heading off to getting stretched by Robin and Lindsey at physical therapy yesterday, I got to see my little girl have her weekly swimming lesson.

According to reports from the front lines, the first few weeks were pretty rough. Body as stiff as driftwood while on her back, the chlorinated water was extra salty on account of all of Emma’s tears.

Then the news started filtering in that she was swimming with an invigorated sense of confidence. Gone was the crying, replaced instead by laughter and smiles.

I knew that I had to see it for myself.

I watched my little girl floating around the pool with Teacher Andrew, kicking her legs and moving her arms. I was amazed at how easily she held her breath when she was submerged and pushed towards the pool’s edge. I was thrilled every time she stood up and jumped to Andrew before they took a lap around the track.

I have never been so proud of my Emma as I was yesterday.

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