I see the pool straight ahead through the glass and it reminds me of my grandmother. She so loved to swim, float and chat with friends or mostly acquaintances. As I am reminded of this, my thoughts go to how she was and is so strong. She says she cannot cry, as I couldn’t for years, and now, well, I am moved to tears often. I’ve become soft, but that’s ok. That memory at the pool makes me think how I’d dive into the pool if some tragedy struck. Water is soothing, it holds us, and hugs us as nobody can.
My grandmother doesn’t ruminate, she never did, or at least she never talked about it. She always kept to the business at hand. She practiced mindfulness when there was no word for it. I, on the other hand, am at the gym, watching the pool through the glass because I’m there for exactly that reason, to not ruminate and keep my body and mind busy.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll try the pool and swim for my grandmother who so much misses the water, especially the sea.