Broken Nose Dive

By Lynn Thomas

My mother was an avid swimmer.

Growing up on a lake in northern New Jersey, she spent her summers in, on and under the water. She was quite the tomboy who loved diving, aquatic racing and competition. Had she had the right connections, she could have been a contender for an Olympic event.

While my mother was a water lover… I was a water liker.

I was not the tomboy she had been. Far from it, as when a baby I would cry if a speck of sand touched my skin; and I had a tremendous fear and respect for the water.

Whether at our lake home or in the surf at Briny, my mother was continually trying to share her love of adventure with me.

What I did not like — not at all — and that which caused me much distress were the creatures in the water… down there lurking, nibbling on my toes and threatening from the deep abyss… and I feared the water currents.

My youngest memories include my mother taking me into the surf at Briny Breezes for a wonderful swim, and then my trying to climb out of the surf and onto the sand to follow her onshore. The surf would roll up and knock me back down. I’d become frantic, crying for her to rescue me. She would laugh and say, “Are you really my daughter?”

I grew to like the feel of the water, the swimming and even the diving (though never to the extent of her dexterity).

But I never have liked much the thought of what lurks beneath… nor the invisible force that can turn a wonderful swim into a life threatening adventure in a riptide.

When not having her daughter in tow, my mother would rush into the surf, take a deep dive into a wave and swim laps horizontal to the shore. She delighted in this exercise and looked forward to it daily.

A Swim Turns Unforgettable

Then one day, the unthinkable happened. Mom entered the surf, walked into the depth, waited on the right wave and then dove in… only this time she dove into a diver. She hit him with such a force, that she broke her nose. It knocked her for a loop, she didn’t know which way was up. The diver helped her out of the surf and Briny friends rushed to her aide.

She spent some time bandaged from her incident. Embarrassed? For sure… Hurting? Of course…. Spirit dampened? Not a bit.

Each day she’d wade in the surf anxiously awaiting her next glorious swim.

And for the rest of her days… my mom would take every opportunity to swim… spending many of her days donned in her bathing suit and thinking about her next dive.

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