wmaker090@gmail.com
28.
“On the second day of our vacation in Puerto Rico, my husband and I were excited to go to the local beach. There were some kite surfers, but no one was swimming in the ocean because the waves were pretty big. We wanted the ocean experience, so we went out, but only up to our knees. My husband started diving into the whitewater and encouraged me to as well. I grew up in CA and knew how to dive under waves, but I was nervous for some reason. I did it anyway. The third time I dove, I could no longer touch the ground when I came up because there was a drop off, and I was swept back into the bigger waves. I tried my hardest to swim towards shore, but the tide was too strong and I was now battling huge waves to stay alive.”
“I yelled for help. My husband was trying to come to my rescue, but was fighting the waves to get to me. My energy quickly depleted, and after the next wave, I only barely came up for air. That’s when I realized that no one was going to be able to save me, and I was going to drown. At that moment, a voice told me to stop fighting the waves. My survival instinct told me otherwise, but the voice was calm and commanding. So I did, and within two giant waves, I had been brought close enough for my husband to grab my arm and pull me to shore. I sat quietly, shaking and blue, for a while as my husband cared for me. Needless to say, I avoided the beach pretty much the rest of our trip.”
—Anonymous
