A few days ago, on Memorial Day, I went to the neighborhood pool with two of my adult sons and my twelve-year-old grandson. These three enjoyed interacting in the pool, inspite of their age differences and as is normal for a group of males, they decided to compete in a swim race which my youngest son won easily, every time.
I watched these three swim back and forth across the pool and it became apparent to me that though my older son and grandson could swim, their form were not as good as the youngest. He had strokes that looked like what one would see from a competitive swimmer. This surprised me because I knew I had never invested in swim lessons for him.
He was born late in life, many years after the other three children. When I was a young mom with the other three as preschoolers (they are very close in age) I had enrolled them all in swim lessons. But this youngest one always had an older sibling to watch him in the pool and I was an older, tireder mom, so he never benefited from lessons. Yet, there he was, now as a 22 year-old, swimming like a pro.
I asked him how and where he ever learned to swim so well. His reply grabbed my heart. He said, "Much of my swimming as a kid was done with my best friend, Zack who was on both the swim and dive teams. I learned by watching him and I had to learn just to keep up with him."
Zack and my son met in kindergarten and were best friends all of their lives … right up until the day Zack died. When he was only 15, he was struck by a car crossing a busy street and died at the scene. My son served as a pall bearer as well as one of the handful of friends who shared how much he had meant to them. Zack has been gone over five years now but his influence lives on.
Funny how one person's life impacts another.
