Moment of Trepidation

Preface:

Today's post is not a humor column. So if you were looking for a light-hearted story for a laugh you'll have to wait for another week. But it is still true and real. So if you want to keep reading...


Story:

After a pretty good fall Dad decided to go again. He climbed back into the boat while we went back to pick up his other ski. I heard a thud against the boat and Dad let out a yell. Uncle Paul quickly ran to the back of the boat and jumped in to assist him. I feel like I’m constantly surrounded by people over-reacting, and I try to balance that out. Assuming my dad had run into the boat and my uncle was attending to him I stood in the boat nonchalantly until my cousin Shelley shelled at me, “Kevin, get in the water and help your father!” Until that point I hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation; I looked out behind the boat and didn’t see Dad at all.

I quickly jumped into the water and went under to assess the situation. I located him immediately. Thankfully, he wasn’t far from the surface. With his head less than a foot from the surface I just had to pull him up a little and everything would be fine. I grabbed on to his jacket with my left hand and grabbed the boat with my right arm so I had the leverage to pull him up.

Paul was on his left and I was on his right. With both of us pulling we still couldn’t get his head above the water. My cousin Shelley leaned over the back of the boat and cried out a prayer as Paul and I struggled to get is head above the water.

The next day upon hearing the story my sister replied, “Oh, I’m so glad Kevin was there. He always knows what to do.” Not today. I had no idea what to do. My dad was now inches from the surface and I didn’t know how to help him.

Fortunately, other people in my family thought to get the weight to the front of the boat. As the weight shifted to the front it raised the back of the boat just enough.

Paul had managed to wedge his leg into the motor so he had enough leverage to use both of his arms to help Dad. Paul was fighting. I was fighting. Dad was not. He wasn’t even moving at this point.

That’s when it happened. Probably the scariest moment of my life. For just a moment, as if time was operating in slow-motion… I can’t even describe the emotion. I knew we were pulling my dad up above the surface, but I did not know if he was dead or alive. As his head made it up to the surface he coughed. The struggle wasn’t over yet, but the fear subsided. Dad was going to make it.

My dad’s first words were, “Take off my suit.” His suit was so tangled in the prop that it was tying him to motor and holding him below the water. He and Paul had already tried to get it off, but were not able. At that point Paul told me he would take my dad’s weight while I worked on the suit. So he now held him up solo while I tried to set him free.

Somehow with Dad manipulating his body I was able to get his suit off, and we got him out and into the boat.

I wasn’t ready to see my dad go. Especially, not like that. Dad said God gave him a peace under the water that allowed him to be still.

That night I said to Shelley, “Hey, thanks for telling me to get in the water.” She grinned and nodded.