one small pebble

seeing as how it’s just you and me here, i’m going to admit to something: a fear.

it’s not a fear i’ve had forever. it’s not really a fear i worry about much these days. it’s there though, now that i think about it, as bright and sharp as the day it made itself known.

i was sixteen or seventeen, and though i didn’t know it then, i was on my last family holiday with my parents and brothers. i canoed out to sea with my younger brother. we slipped away from the shore and the water was clear and warm and the stones on the bottom, slippery with sunshine. we paddled and drifted and paddled some more, until the shore had gone from us at a distance. the sea was cooler, then cold, and i looked down. i could no longer see the bottom or fathom the depth.

to this day, i do not like being in deep water, nor can i bring myself to swim in the sea. i’m the lame auntie paddling in the shallows, fretting when the kids go out too deep.

it is not the fear that stands out. it’s the timing of it – why then, at that point in my life? now that i look back, i know that my life was at a point of transition. within a year, i had left home.

we went back to the hospital today to talk about a way forwards. we talked and talked. we talked about what might have triggered my daughter’s pain. is it possible to identify a trigger, a stress point? starting secondary school? no? nothing obvious stood out.

but i remember that deep water, and it makes me think.

and should you find a pretty pebble, any small pebble on a happy, holiday beach – even the prettiest of little pebbles, when brought up close to your eye, will block out the sun.


3 Comments on “one small pebble”

  1. Toni says:

    You’re a really good writer.

  2. Toni says:

    Just got to keep on keeping on, right? Hope tomorrow is better.

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