last swim of the summer

I was kind of freaking out for two days. It might’ve been hormones, or post-concussion syndrome symptoms or a reasonable response to an overwhelming, fucked up world but I was having a hard time. 

Five weeks ago, before the first day of school, we had a family swim day at the Sandy River. It was late August, the dregs of a too-hot summer that refuses to chill out. Deaths and theft and big changes that we are still sitting in the wake of, slapped by difficult emotions.  We went swimming and ate ice cream and called it a good day. My step kid scoured the sandy shore for rocks to smash while I floated out in the middle of the shallow, not too cold but sandy bottomed river. Most rivers near us wear rocks smooth; a treasure for the eyes but unsteady underfoot. The Sandy River is a great fishing spot in winter, but in late summer, before the rains return, the water is low, the current lazy and you can walk across the river without getting your shorts wet.  There is an old drive in diner that has been revamped with simple soft serve with fancy toppings, making a perfect escape from Portland Day.

Now, my step kid is back in school. Most mornings, I wake him, make lunch while he coos at the dog, then we walk to school together. But this day, I was exhausted. I had a headache for a few days, not a migraine like you'd expect but a special back-of-the-head ache that combines a little nausea, some brain fog and a lack of patience. I felt jumbled and foggy, and unable to enjoy my day off and I can't stop crying.

My head feels like a snowglobe someone shook too hard and now the glitter flakes won't settle.

It was supposed to be 87 despite it being October. I was supposed to go swimming. I am tired and impatient and finally decide to go. Every time I checked, the forecast insisted it would be 87 but at 3 it was 75 . I almost gave up.  I sat in the sun eating my ice cream and contemplated. I don't miss hot weather--it exacerbates my symptoms giving me a foggy, wool in the brain feeling. But I was hoping to swim.

This summer, I realized that floating on my back in cool water calms my headache. There is science for this, about being in cold water when you feel agitated or inflamed .   On hot days, I work at home and take multiple breaks in our kiddie pool.

I could take a cold shower too, and I do though it isn't just the cold water that offers relief. Even in shallow water, or in the little pool in our backyard, I float on my back, reach towards the sides of the pool or the edges of the water and look up. On the river, the horizon becomes almond shaped, bent at the edges of my peripheral vision.  Even with my head back my ears are below the surface of the river and all is quiet.  It is utterly calming.  Today I don't stay long. The water is cold.  I have waded out to a sunny spot but my hands and feet are chilled.  I float a few times, take deep breaths, looking up. 

You rarely know when you're experiencing something for the last time.

We came to the river to celebrate the end of a very difficult summer but the summer kept going. So I tried to say goodbye one more time.

The next morning was gray, chilly, almost drizzling. My step kid declared there are rarely any foggy days in Portland, which is a perfect example of how a 10 year old experiences the world. THere has been no fog for months therefore it is rarely foggy.  The summer is over but it is still swimming weather if you want it to be.