My family: Standing at the Edge
..........I remember standing at the edge of the ocean where the water had not touched the sand just yet. My sister held my left and my brother held my right, but i was looking at our feet. small foot small foot smaller foot smaller foot small foot small foot. She’ll swim with us today, Mom. Today it will happen for sure.
..........We moved from dry sand to wet sand. A whorl of water swooshed toward our feet and curled back to itself, back and forth in a hypnotizing tempo. I studied our feet and the relationship between our feet and the ocean. Each footprint we made was wiped clean away by the ocean. The ocean stripped away each of our steps. It did not want to remember that we had been there. It wanted to pretend we had never existed. The ocean seemed to be in love with my sister’s and brother’s feet. The water rolled over their feet leaving behind droplet kisses. It swirled around their feet, under their feet, between their toes embracing the surface of their feet, embracing each muscle, each bone under the muscle, each cell.
..........The water didn’t touch my feet, like i was wearing invisible shoes. It came close to my feet, but somehow my feet stayed dry. I was a water repellant and in that moment, i was unafraid. I no longer waned to scream. I took a few steps toward the ocean on my own, without my brother and my sister. The water stepped aside for me and i continued walking. The water slowed, approaching me delicately and quickly circled back, afraid, knowing that its nature was to return to the shore over and over again. The slimy sand dried beneath my with each pace. The water would have been up to my ankles.
..........Can i keep walking? i thought. Can i walk till i come to the other side of this world? A place unknown. A place that might be dry. Won’t i find dry land all the way over there? Won’t i find a place where water isn’t worshiped by sycophantic grovelers to afraid to stand in and up to the water? Won’t i find a place where my dry feet are welcome? Won’t i find a place where i will be Special instead of Different?
..........I kept walking and the water kept letting me. My brother and sister cheered me on from the shore. My mother cried out my name like a happy, little girl and clapped her hands. For a brief moment, my mother thought that she had the perfect little family of children that could just as easily be fish; how much they all love the water They all thought i was going to swim. I would never swim, but i was going to keep walking till i left the stupid, wet, slimy ocean behind.
..........The water level should have been up to my chest. By degrees, my family and many of the beach-goers began to see that something was amiss. Is she in the water or not? My mother’s breath of normalcy had been exhaled and i heard her yell my name. I heard my brother and my sister splash into the water to come get me. I should have been in over my head by now. I turned around. I wanted to say good-bye to them and to my mother, but i couldn’t see them. Instead, i saw a big, blue wall of water.
..........Don’t touch me i thought-screamed and then i didn’t see anything, but i felt each drop of water drip into each pore of my skin. The water tore through me and set itself on fire from inside of me. I burned with the fire of the ocean.
..........Next, my mother’s tears are falling onto my hand which she is holding. Her tears burn They burn But i know better than to scream now. I’m in the hospital. Without being told, i know that my brother and my sister are in the ocean.
..........From my mother’s scrapbook:
..........Miracle. No. It was a warning. You dared to cross me before, the water told me as it spit me out. Don’t do it again.
..........Everyone talked while i slept, unwakeable, pouring out sweat, but not really sweat. I was pouring the ocean out of me, burning it out. My mother poured water out of herself, shedding tears on my body that would leave tiny burn scars later. She prayed and prayed and prayed, hoped beyond hope, please not this child, too, what will i do if i am all on my own oh spare her spare at least her dear lord, you who created the blessed water, the blessed earth who saved her from the water spare her now do not have saved her just to take her from me, only to tease me, don’t be a mocking lord.
..........Doesn’t everyone say be careful what you pray for? Doesn’t the Lord listen? Any who ask, are they denied anything? I was alive beyond all reason, woken from the (almost) deepest of sleeps and yet in my waking i still should not have been alive. My fire, the fire inside me blazing so hot, so brightly raising my temperature to a number that doesn’t get along well with the living. Yet, i was one of the living once again. My skin burned from the inside and the cool touch of my mother’s fingers across my forehead was brief because my skin burned her from the outside.
..........How is she? We don’t know. Why is she? We don’t know. Will she ever? And they didn’t know. They still don’t know. Will never know why i burn from the inside, why my temperature would kill, kill, kill anyone else and why at the same time i am healthy, healthy, healthy except for the fact that i should be dead. My organs should have disintegrated into ash by now. The only reason i’m not dead is that i’m not dead.
..........We moved from dry sand to wet sand. A whorl of water swooshed toward our feet and curled back to itself, back and forth in a hypnotizing tempo. I studied our feet and the relationship between our feet and the ocean. Each footprint we made was wiped clean away by the ocean. The ocean stripped away each of our steps. It did not want to remember that we had been there. It wanted to pretend we had never existed. The ocean seemed to be in love with my sister’s and brother’s feet. The water rolled over their feet leaving behind droplet kisses. It swirled around their feet, under their feet, between their toes embracing the surface of their feet, embracing each muscle, each bone under the muscle, each cell.
..........The water didn’t touch my feet, like i was wearing invisible shoes. It came close to my feet, but somehow my feet stayed dry. I was a water repellant and in that moment, i was unafraid. I no longer waned to scream. I took a few steps toward the ocean on my own, without my brother and my sister. The water stepped aside for me and i continued walking. The water slowed, approaching me delicately and quickly circled back, afraid, knowing that its nature was to return to the shore over and over again. The slimy sand dried beneath my with each pace. The water would have been up to my ankles.
..........Can i keep walking? i thought. Can i walk till i come to the other side of this world? A place unknown. A place that might be dry. Won’t i find dry land all the way over there? Won’t i find a place where water isn’t worshiped by sycophantic grovelers to afraid to stand in and up to the water? Won’t i find a place where my dry feet are welcome? Won’t i find a place where i will be Special instead of Different?
*Yes. Yes. Yes.*
..........I kept walking and the water kept letting me. My brother and sister cheered me on from the shore. My mother cried out my name like a happy, little girl and clapped her hands. For a brief moment, my mother thought that she had the perfect little family of children that could just as easily be fish; how much they all love the water They all thought i was going to swim. I would never swim, but i was going to keep walking till i left the stupid, wet, slimy ocean behind.
..........The water level should have been up to my chest. By degrees, my family and many of the beach-goers began to see that something was amiss. Is she in the water or not? My mother’s breath of normalcy had been exhaled and i heard her yell my name. I heard my brother and my sister splash into the water to come get me. I should have been in over my head by now. I turned around. I wanted to say good-bye to them and to my mother, but i couldn’t see them. Instead, i saw a big, blue wall of water.
..........Don’t touch me i thought-screamed and then i didn’t see anything, but i felt each drop of water drip into each pore of my skin. The water tore through me and set itself on fire from inside of me. I burned with the fire of the ocean.
..........Next, my mother’s tears are falling onto my hand which she is holding. Her tears burn They burn But i know better than to scream now. I’m in the hospital. Without being told, i know that my brother and my sister are in the ocean.
..........From my mother’s scrapbook:
TRAGIC MIRACLE:
twins die trying to rescue non-swimmer little sister. Mother grateful ocean saved one child.
A strange and extraordinary miracle of the beloved water. A child saved by the water she doesn’t even know how to swim in and a strange and extraordinary tragedy - her twin brother and sister, expert swimmers, lost in the sudden storm.
..........Miracle. No. It was a warning. You dared to cross me before, the water told me as it spit me out. Don’t do it again.
..........Everyone talked while i slept, unwakeable, pouring out sweat, but not really sweat. I was pouring the ocean out of me, burning it out. My mother poured water out of herself, shedding tears on my body that would leave tiny burn scars later. She prayed and prayed and prayed, hoped beyond hope, please not this child, too, what will i do if i am all on my own oh spare her spare at least her dear lord, you who created the blessed water, the blessed earth who saved her from the water spare her now do not have saved her just to take her from me, only to tease me, don’t be a mocking lord.
..........Doesn’t everyone say be careful what you pray for? Doesn’t the Lord listen? Any who ask, are they denied anything? I was alive beyond all reason, woken from the (almost) deepest of sleeps and yet in my waking i still should not have been alive. My fire, the fire inside me blazing so hot, so brightly raising my temperature to a number that doesn’t get along well with the living. Yet, i was one of the living once again. My skin burned from the inside and the cool touch of my mother’s fingers across my forehead was brief because my skin burned her from the outside.
..........How is she? We don’t know. Why is she? We don’t know. Will she ever? And they didn’t know. They still don’t know. Will never know why i burn from the inside, why my temperature would kill, kill, kill anyone else and why at the same time i am healthy, healthy, healthy except for the fact that i should be dead. My organs should have disintegrated into ash by now. The only reason i’m not dead is that i’m not dead.
posted by yogagrrrl at 2:56 PM
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