Under Water

About 4 years ago we were enjoying a vacation on Maui and had taken a catamaran to the small island of Lanai where the snorkeling is amazing. Usually. Except for the day we went. As often happens in the tropics, we experienced a bit of tropical weather and the ocean was rough. When we finally got to the designated area, with all our snorkeling gear, we were met by huge waves crashing right on the beach. Anyone with any experience swimming in the ocean understood that to get in without being hit you had to wait for the wave to crash and back in to the water as it retreated - before the next swell took speed. But Grace was a novice. She couldn't walk in her fins and she was very afraid to get in the water.

We were anxious to get Grace out beyond the waves so she could see the gorgeous tropical fish that we had remembered from a previous trip. The older girls and I were already out there, beyond the breaking point when I saw Bob, wearing his fins, pick Grace up, stand with his back to the ocean and begin to walk backward into the water. But he was slow and he did not see the enormous wave racing toward them. Grace, who was holding to his chest and looking over his shoulder, did. I too, saw what was about to happen - as well as the look of sheer terror on my little 6-year-old's face. I heard her scream just before a 6 foot wave crashed over them both and swallowed them whole. I swam as fast as I could to where they had been standing. They popped up several seconds later about 20 feet away. Bob was still clinging to Grace, and Grace - eyes wide open and still registering terror - looked like she had just been shocked into a coma.

I knew the kind fear she had. I had awakened from nightmares as a child like that. Where you open your mouth to scream and no sound comes out. It took us nearly a year to get her back into the water without a floating device. Even if she was only in knee deep.

I can tell you that as a member of the "formerly employed club" some days feel like that. The news is not helpful. Every newscaster, be they local or national, report all the latest unemployment numbers and then tell you how much worse its going to be tomorrow. Then the well coiffed talking head tells you how (s)he - at station WXYZ - wants to help all of us unemployed out there in TV Land find a job. They smile sincerely and you wonder how they do that. Then they cut to footage of the latest in an endless stream of "job fairs" being held in Long Beach or Torrance or City of Industry or anywhere other than local. Then the camera zooms to three men in khaki pants and polo shirts standing behind a booth for "Pep Boys Auto Parts and Service". Something tells me that there is no place for me along side Manny, Moe, and Jack.

I am really blessed. We're not in a place of panic. We can weather this for a good long time. Not necessarily comfortably, but we can weather it nonetheless. I am very aware that there are many living in tent cities - not unlike the days of Herbert Hoover - which is so hard to wrap my mind around. Life is going to look different moving forward - whether or not we see a full recovery. Nothing will feel as secure as it did before. I will be slower to spend and quicker to give. Awareness. There will be more of that.

In the meantime, when I have days like these, when it feels like a giant wave is about to overcome me, I will try to remember that someone is holding me and, while I do not mean to diminish the experience - especially for those who are desperate, we are stronger than our circumstances. In the end, while the wave can hit you, overtake you, disorient you, and leave you gasping for air - it is only water.