The Long Swim

        Thank God the water was warm! If I’d tried this stunt anywhere else but here on the Gulf Coast I’d have been long gone by now.
         I was a good swimmer. Most every day found me in the pool chugging along length after length. Most days I put in my forty lengths, and occasionally I’d push it a little and do a whole mile.
         But I was no long distance swimmer. And that was the whole point. I really didn’t want to make it. The distance from where I splashed into the ocean to Lighthouse Point across the bay was too far for even a good swimmer. I didn’t expect to accomplish it. I expected to die.
         Yes, die.
         Lately, I’d been having some really bad luck in my stock market investments. Or I should say, tradings. I was one of those lucky people who could, in a single day, chalk up as much as ten thousand dollars in quick, buy-sell trades. They call people like me “day traders.”
         At first, when my friend told me about it, I was skeptical.
         What if you lost? I asked.
         Sometimes you will lose, he said, but once you get enough experience placing very small buys and sells, you get the hang of it. If everybody lost who played, there would be very few players, but there are many more people doing this every day, and and a lot of them are making good money at it.
         So I got into it. I was good. Very good. For quite a while, actually. I would occasionally lose, of course, but more often than not, I was a winner.
         Then, about six months ago, I began to slip. I’d make some of it up, but my magic touch left me, and soon I was doubling my buys in a quite irresponsible way. I was truly headed downhill.
         In the last month it got really bad. I got desperate. My wife and two kids were left in the background, as all I could think of was borrow, borrow, borrow, until the house, and everything else I owned was eventually put on the line.
         Last night I slipped out of bed after Nancy was asleep, and went outside and paced back and forth along the road in front of our beach house.
         I couldn’t stand it. It was all going to come out tomorrow when the bank was going to repossess our house. I’d managed to keep the letters away from Nancy. She didn’t have a clue. I was so stunned and embarrassed and humiliated by such a thing happening in my life. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face it.
         Then I looked out at the ocean. It was beautiful, with the moon blazing its whiteness across the waves. Beautiful. And it was a way out. A way to stop the embarrassment and disgust I felt.
         I could just get in the water and start swimming. I could never make it across the bay to Lighthouse Point. It must be at least six or seven miles, maybe more. Just looking at it in the moonlight, I knew I wouldn’t make it more than halfway, at best.
         I sat there on the beach with a million things going through my mind for a long time. Should I, or shouldn’t I? Could I, or couldn’t I? Which was worse, living with it, or dying with it?
         What was life, anyway?
         I couldn’t answer that one, because every two seconds I’d start thinking of the awful thing I’d done to my family. The shame was simply overpowering. I cried a lot, and just as the sky began to lighten, I started to walk. I walked as if I had a goal. The blinking light across the bay drew me on. I let it hypnotize me. I just put one foot in front of the other. Soon my feet got wet, then my knees, then a wave splashed over me, and I was swimming.
         At first, it was exhilarating. I felt a tremendous relief, as if I didn’t have a care in the world. What freedom! I just concentrated on the rhythm of the stroke, like I did every morning in the pool. The waves even made it more fun, as I glided up and over them.
         After a while, I got my second wind, and just seemed to coast along. Actually, though, I think I was beginning to slow down. Like I said, I was no long distance swimmer. I began to think that it wouldn’t be too long before I would want to stop for a moment and take a short rest.
         Panic! I knew in my mind that that would be the beginning of the end. Like the guy in the snow who just wants to “rest a while,” but always ends up frozen dead.
         I couldn’t believe that my mind would let me down like that. Hadn’t I clearly decided to die? I welcomed the thought of death. It was what I really wanted. Death would solve all my life problems. I’d figured it out. I’d made the decision. I wanted to die. Definitely!
         So why was my body panicking, and my mind along with it? Something animal inside me said, “Live!”, and there didn’t seem to be anything else it wanted. I could say, “Die!”, and it would say, “Live!”
         Some kind of business. I screwed up my life, and here I was screwing up my death. I almost choked, as I actually began to laugh at my predicament. But I knew I would certainly die before very long, no matter what my preservation instincts demanded.
         So I bumbled along, swimming at a steady, but tired, pace, thinking that I must be about halfway across the bay by now. A pretty good place to die, really. Halfway from earth to heaven, I thought. I laughed.
         I was getting giddy, a dangerous symptom. I was beginning to lose it. Then I received a rude, forceful bump in my side, and looked over to see a branch, more like a log, gathering me up and carrying me out to sea.
         What was this? Had I no say in the matter of my death? I was clearly about to die when who else but God sent me a big log to float on! Ridiculous! In the meantime, these profound inner discussions didn’t stop me from enjoying the rest I was getting, and the chance to catch my breath.
         I quickly figured out that the branch I was resting on was swept down by the river that emptied into the bay. I must be in the channel, though it all looked like ocean to me. Well, I thought, let’s see if the water tastes good. I’m really thirsty.
         It tasted wonderful, clear and clean. I drank a lot, and rested a lot. Pretty soon I began to wonder if I would be carried out to sea. Surely, that was where the branch was headed when it so effectively picked me up out of the water.
         I studied the two shores to get some kind of bearing. I was definitely closer to the lighthouse side of the bay, but still a long way out. At least two or three miles.
         But I slipped into the water and began swimming again. Instinct or death wish, it didn’t make much difference. I had to try to make the lighthouse shore. I just let go of the whole thing. If I died, or if I lived, it didn’t matter. All I knew was, swim! And I did.
         I tried to be a little better organized this time, by swimming a while and then resting by floating a while. This seemed to be a good system. And while floating I noticed that the shore was getting a little closer. Of course, the tide was coming in! I tried to remember when it was supposed to come in today, but I couldn’t. I guessed it must be a little after low tide, and it was beginning to turn. It didn’t seem strong enough to take me all the way into the shore, but it would certainly help. What was this? The hand of God again? I stopped thinking about it and concentrated on my swimming.
         It wasn’t long before I began to falter.
         I was getting very tired, and was spending a lot more time floating then swimming. I just sort of drooped one time, and much to my complete surprise touched bottom! Of course, a sand bar! I knew they were out there in the bay, but, since I never had given a thought to swimming across such a body of water, I never considered exactly where they might be.
         I stood up! And, with the tide, I was able to sort of hop along, making pretty good progress. I didn’t give much thought to resting at this point, I could only move forward, wherever that might take me. I had kind of given up, I guess. I mean given up trying to die. I was just trying to reach the lighthouse shore before I slipped down into the sea and drowned. I don’t think I put it to myself in such clear terms, but my actions clearly said that what I wanted was to keep going. When t he sand bar fell away, I began to swim once again.
         But I was exhausted. I didn’t have much left. I floated as much as I could, more drifting than swimming, really.
         In my confused mental state, I began to imagine that there was a body of some sort pressing into me from below. In fact, there seemed to be two bodies, one on each side. I stopped trying to swim, and these two bodies just carried me along on top of them. I was amazed to realize that they were really there, and then I figured out they were dolphins! How amazing!
         The dolphins swam along really fast! I almost fell off, as I found their skin was not built with any handholds. Then one of them kind of tilted and I was able to get a good grip on one of his fins.
         What a blessing! I confess I did thank God. There was no doubt anymore who had helped me get across the bay. I was not forgotten, as I had so thoroughly convinced myself when I began to lose all that money. God was real! God was here right now. First the log to float on, then the sand bar and the tide, and now, if I needed any further convincing, the two dolphins, doing what they are said to want to do, helping a human in need. I’d heard of other stories of them helping people in distress, and I guess mine would be one more. I could feel such love coming from them. They seemed to be caressing me with their skin, as if they could read my mind. I sure was thanking them a lot.
         Soon we reached the lighthouse shore. They kind of dropped me off, and I swam slowly in, mostly riding the breakers, as I truly had no strength left.
         I pulled myself onto the beach and lay there exhausted, when I heard one of my children calling, “Daddy, daddy!” She came running over in her tiny bathing suit, followed by my other child and by Nancy, my wife.
         All I could say was, “God . . . God . . .”
         “We came over to the lighthouse to swim and poke around the rocks this morning. I noticed you had left early, but I didn’t think anything about it. We were just about to go home. How did you get here, anyway?”
         “God . . . God . . .”
         I couldn’t manage anything more. They could see I couldn’t say anything, so they waited for me to recover enough to make it to the car. I knew I would tell Nancy everything. I wouldn’t leave anything out. How could I? I had found God, and that made the world a good place, even if I were broke. And I surely was.
         But when I found God I also found love again, so Nancy and I could face being broke together. We could face anything together. I could look into her eyes and smile. I could hold her hand and feel her warmth, and she could feel mine.
         I had learned my lesson. I would never doubt God again. It was a pretty convincing lesson, my long swim, but that is surely what I needed. And I’m awfully glad I got it. I’ll never be alone again. Ever.