I acknowledge another equally painful memory, of my mother, who did not protect me from my father. Today, I am left with an image of horror and betrayal. My look of joy suddenly turns to one of shame and fear. I see the same joy on my face as I just saw a moment ago on the child's, until my father reaches his hand under my swimsuit to fondle me. The memory surfaces of myself as a small child: My arms are wrapped around my father's neck while swimming in a lake. A smile of success and relief appears on the child's face.
The mother tries to assure her daughter that she will not be left adrift, but her efforts fail.Īcknowledging the fear, the mother tosses the ring onto the deck and gently kisses her daughter's cheek. Protesting, the little girl begins to kick her feet and cling desperately to her mother's neck. Not a hint of distrust crosses this child's face she appears confident of her mother's love and protection.Īfter a few moments, the mother attempts to place the child into an inflatable toy ring. They wrap their arms securely around each other and playfully bob up and down.
I watch a young mother climb into the swimming pool with her 3-year-old daughter.
