When I was 5 years old, I used to spend two weeks every summer in a small farming community with my grandparents. They owned a dairy farm and I would spend my days trailing after my grandfather, pestering him.
At least once every visit, my grandmother would take me to the public swimming pool. She always stayed in the car while I went inside by myself. I managed to navigate the changing room and made my way to the pool.
In my eagerness to be in the water I forgot that I had to walk to the far end of the pool to get to the shallow end. As soon as I got to the pool, I jumped in. It was the deep end, 8 feet of water. I was 5, and I couldn’t swim.
Before I had time to even realize what had happened, a young man grabbed me and swam to the surface, sitting me on the edge of the pool. He asked if I was okay. Nodding my head that I was, he pointed to the far end and told me that was where I needed to be, with the smaller kids.
I have never forgotten him. He was some high school boy that happened to be paying attention when a little kid jumped in the deep end. But he saved my life, and I’ll always be grateful to that unknown young man.
That feeling then, is a lot like I’m feeling now. I just jumped in the deep end and I can’t swim. But this time around I have two rescuers that are helping me surface.
When I was a kid I would entertain my friends with stories. I have written a few articles for horse magazines when I trained. But I have never tried to write a book before. I did have a story, though, and it had been in my head for a very long time. That’s where my present day rescuers come in. They saw what I didn’t, that my story could be written down and turned into a book.
I am well on my way to becoming a published author. It’s an exciting and exhilarating journey. I know I’m just beginning, but the thrill is real. And with the company I keep these days, I’m quickly learning to tread water. Hopefully, I’ll be swimming in the near future.