SWIMMING HOME

We just returned from the last meet of the season — our league Championship meet in Eindhoven, Netherlands. We drove through England, France, and Belgium to get there. The history of Europe and how wars may’ve been fought, comes into bright, clear context as you drive. The country borders, except for the channel crossing, appear matter-of-factly, sort of like county line markers. Not even as big as state crossings, which usually banner the interstate and proceed a welcoming center in the states.

The expression “tastes like chicken” crossed my mind as I drove. Only it morphed into, “looks like Ohio.” Much of the countryside reminded me of my home state. Rather flat, and rural, only with distinct steeples rising in the distance from the churches that rest in almost every village and city. And the town signs, Calais, Dunquerqe, Antwerpe, etc. These brought perspective, as well as the language variations when you stop along the way.

It was Carnival in Eindhoven. We drove into the city to discover much revelry in the streets painted brightly with people in costume and bold behavior. This lasted all weekend long —I imagine right into Tuesday night at Midnight. The Dutch are a tall people. Friendly. And their language comes across to me as sort of Swedish/German. Bicyclists are everywhere, as are bike lanes. Even many of the bicycles were in costume. I love that.

My family has become one of the “travelling swim families,” which are smattered across Europe throughout the European Forces Swim League. We all travel far and wide to come together as a community. Those from Naples seem to travel the furthest.

It’s a community that I love. This is our third (fourth?) swim family, and each one has brought together great people and great memories. We even saw friends from our first swim family at the meet. That’s the way it is. As with every universe, sooner or later, your stars align again.

Years ago, I resolved to find something, which would become a consistent thread in my children’s lives. No matter where we were in the world, I wanted to offer them a comfortable constant. I feared, otherwise, they might eventually lose themselves into that teenage no-man’s-land I observed out my kitchen window when my kids were young. It’s easy to do when your children are moved about; shifting up places and friends so often.

At about the same time, I saw my Mormon friends embraced almost immediately into a community wherever they moved. I’m not Mormon, so this wasn’t going to work for me, but I wanted to find the same scenario. Swimming does that for us. We immersed ourselves, literally, within two weeks of arriving in England last August; and before that Northern Virginia. 

Where once it took me months to line up activities and get involved, it now was something I could embrace, almost immediately. Swimming has brought us closer to all kinds of folks we wouldn’t otherwise have met. We cherish this.

My son turns 13 tomorrow. He is the oldest, so the teenage years are new to me. A couple of weeks ago he looked over on the way to practice and said, “Mom, I want to keep swimming. It’s part of me now.” This brings that warm well of tears threatening to bubble beyond the backs of my eyes. I try not to show the emotion when I respond. I want it to be their decision. Maybe I got lucky with my son. He didn't always feel this way. He works hard at swimming. It doesn’t come easy to him, so this is big news.

I can only hope my early resolution holds up and that my children always feel they have that familiarity that only comes with community; an extended family waiting for them, no matter where we are on the globe. I know many of our swimteam families who are moving on this year worry over finding the same sort of thing. I want to assure them they will and wish them all the best — and, as always, to swim fast — and have fun!