Learning to Dive

Last night I went to the high school swim meet, and watched my daughter swim on the varsity team.

When she was younger, I felt it was important to let her explore all the extracurricular activities she expressed interest in. I believed, foolishly, because she was my daughter, she would share many of the same interests as I. I had visions of her drawing, and creating, and being incredibly artistic. Where I had come up short, I believed she would surpass me.

Little did I know, that is not what fate would bring me.

Instead, I have the gift of a daughter who is uniquely, well, herself.

Before her freshman year in high school, she decided she wanted to join the high school swim team. I remember looking at her in disbelief, and thinking how can this be, she doesn't even know how to dive in a pool?

All her life, she has been an athlete. Basketball, soccer, cross-country, and even the painful experience of hurdles in track. She has an incredible pain tolerance, and once when she was playing capture the flag with her cross-country team mates, injured her toe, enough where it was twisted and pointed to the sky. Not a tear left her eyes. Yes, she is a an athlete.

Swimming in the lake has always been part of her life, but I never expected her to want to swim competitively. So with the cards stacked against her, she met with the high school coach, and I remember grimacing as I watched her learning how to dive. She joined the swim team, concerned with only improving her time, and seeing herself as her only competition.

Last night, two years have passed since I watched her learn how to dive. As I sat in the same stands, I watched her gracefully dive into the pool. It was beautiful, but even more beautiful was her looking up at me in the stands after the race; and as our eyes connected, we both smiled.

My daughter and I don't share the same talents, what we share is stronger.