Sounds

There are some sounds you never forget.

For me, they are the sounds of my babies when they cried for the first time.

When my dad shouted out my for little brother to come back as they wheeled his coffin out of the viewing room.

And tonight, a new one was added.

It was the sound of my brother-in-law sprinting across the pool deck shouting, "Is that my boy?" as a little boy's limp body was pulled out of the swimming pool.

It was his boy.

It was terrifying.

Tonight I hug my kids a little tighter.  Kiss them a little too much.  And maybe even sleep in their room. 

Tonight I am grateful that my adorable little nephew is ok.  That he is sleeping in his bed tonight.  That a little cousin noticed him and jumped in to get him. 

You hear it on the news.  You hear it from friends and neighbors.  All the while, you just think, "I'm so glad that wasn't me."  I think tonight it hit home and a little too close to my heart.

We had our annual family party and there were probably close to 75+ in attendance.  My sister and I had our kids out of the pool to eat dinner and afterwards they were playing on the tramp.  We were all being chatty, and I guess Beckham decided to get back in the pool without us noticing.  It happened so fast.  He threw up the water and seemed pretty lifeless for a bit, but then he started wimpering.  Thankfully, my parents neighbor is an ER doctor and he happened to be home.  He checked him out and determined that no water had gotten in his lungs.  He suggested to watch him carefully, but that he thought he was going to be fine.  Gratitude.
My stomach still hurts.  I am still scared.  I think that's why I'm writing....that's what I tend to do.

So tomorrow Easton starts swim lessons.  I know that he's not going to learn to swim immediately, but I figure that it's a start. Also, it's a good reminder to me of how fast things happen and I can never be too careful.  I tend to be a relaxed person and I don't think I will give that up completely, but I do need to make some rules for myself.  So, I have made them and I am going to follow them. 

I don't ever want to hear that frantic sound again.

I love you Beck.  Your auntie, the Emonster, Jack, Creigh, and uncle Mitch all love you.  We are glad you're ok.