This past Sunday, I attended my young cousin’s birthday bash — a delightful pool party. The weather was splendid, with temperatures soaring into the upper 80s and fluffy clouds drifting across a vibrant blue sky.
Three-year-old Bella was wearing her floaties — she has decent swimming skills, but we always opt for the extra safety measure while keeping a watchful eye. Meanwhile, seven-year-old Ethan transformed into a little dolphin, diving and spinning beneath the water, surfacing only occasionally for a quick breath. He was completely engrossed in watching the streams of water from the pool jets through his goggles.
Later in the day, after all the non-family guests had left, my cousins and I gathered to chat, soaking up the beautiful weather as our four kids played joyfully. Bella decided she was done with the pool, so I allowed her to remove her floaties. She engaged with a plastic toy kitchen a few feet away, filling and emptying pots, lost in her own imaginative world.
There were six adults seated under the screened porch, and although I kept an eye on Bella — who is usually very cautious and a decent swimmer — I was distracted. An Adirondack chair partially obstructed my view, and we were in the midst of an animated conversation, everyone talking over one another, laughter erupting spontaneously. I was so caught up in the moment that I completely lost focus.
Suddenly, my cousin sprang from his chair and dashed to the edge of the pool. I immediately leaped up, my heart racing, knowing it had to be Bella. The other kids were all exceptional swimmers, but my mind raced with panic.
Blood rushed to my ears, and my hands instinctively covered my mouth as silent, desperate prayers flooded my thoughts, pleading for mercy and forgiveness for my reckless lapse in attention. How long had it been since my cousin noticed Bella wasn’t there, playing and chatting? Did he see a splash? The sight of her tiny back floating?
I felt ashamed for letting her play near the pool without her floaties. I should have been in a position to see her clearly. I was too preoccupied with conversation. I feared I would become one of those families — the ones with an irreplaceable void. Having lost my stepbrother seven years ago, I understood the depth of that absence all too well.
Those fractured families haunt us; we think of them in our quiet moments, wondering how they carry on through such unbearable loss. We often feel guilty for our trivial frustrations with our own children, wishing we could take away their pain, but knowing we would never trade places with them.
In that brief instant before realizing Bella’s chubby hands were gripping the edge of the pool — as we had practiced countless times over the summer — I was that mother, and the thought of losing her was suffocating. Through tears of relief and self-reproach, I hugged her tightly, praising her for “saving herself.”
My cousin had been close by and witnessed the very moment she slipped over the edge. Thankfully, we had spent the summer practicing a technique we dubbed “The Little Princess Who Saves Herself,” which involved falling into the pool, swimming to the nearest wall, and climbing out.
Even with these precautions, Sunday could have ended tragically. I made a significant mistake by allowing Bella to play near the pool without her floaties. Many drownings occur in moments like this, when adults are engrossed in conversation and kids are busy playing, leading everyone to assume someone else is watching. I know I should have been attentive or assigned the responsibility to my husband.
I thought I understood the importance of vigilance, but clearly, I needed a wake-up call.
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Summary:
This piece recounts a frightening experience at a pool party that prompted a reevaluation of water safety practices. The author reflects on the importance of vigilance, especially when children are near water, and shares the emotional weight of nearly facing a tragedy. Through a close call, she emphasizes the necessity of maintaining safety precautions and being attentive to children’s activities.