mermaid, baby dolphin.

“i want you to be the mermaid, and i’ll be the baby dolphin,” he speaks through his snorkel and points to where we should go. i am the willing mermaid, the water taxi with goggles that can’t contain her laughter. i feel as if i’m eight years old and feeling love for the first time.

he said he wanted a snorkel. i wasn’t sure he would know what to do, but i know he’s a fish in water. and we’ve spent every afternoon for the past month in the pool. he came through his first day of school. the first time ever not knowing anyone. the first time momma is not teacher and not even on campus. he came through it with tear stained eyes, salt streaks on his eyelids from crying himself to sleep at quiet time.

so, a snorkel it was. a gift to him from me on his first day of school. yellow because it’s his favorite. we walked to the pool with towels slung over our shoulders.

the water was cold and he was eager. we adjusted the mask and i showed him the mouthpiece. he kept breaking his waterseal by laughing and smiling. he was so giddy he was making waves.  after a few minutes he got the hang of it and he peered in the water.

the world cracked open. i saw it in the reflection of his blue eyes. and it was beautiful. he came up laughing, addicted, wanting more. “again! again!”

his breathing was slow and steady, the rhythm of it took me back to la jolla, 1996, when the seagrass made me carsick. “go under with me,” he says. and i do. we smile through bubbles that rise and pop around us. if laughter could be contained, it would fill this pool.

he speaks through his snorkel and while i watch him i see a future version of himself. one that has sunbleached hair, a college kid working summers to save money so he can snorkel around a coral reef in the bahamas. bubbles rise from my mouth. i’m happiest in water. and this day i will not forget.

the sun is warm. i hoist him onto my hip for the walk home. “i love you” he whispers into my wet hair. i squeeze him and water drips off of him onto me. “i love you too,” i whisper back. all the while thinking, “i’m so damn lucky. i’m so damn lucky in this life.” because really, it couldn’t get much better than this.