Childhood Defined

It is so hard to pick, but there is one that really stands our for me involving my Dad.

Let me first say that I always knew my Dad loved me, but we were constantly at odds with each other. We were too much alike...kind of like trying to get two positive ends of two magnets to connect...instead we kept pushing away....kwim?

But then a magnet flipped.

I was enrolled in a sailing camp during the summer after 2nd grade. My Dad was an old salt of the first order, an expert captain, winner of much hardware and he had bought my brother and me a little one sail dingy which we promptly named "Little Miss Leading". Dad's boat being of course, "Miss Leading".

He wanted us to feel as comfortable piloting our own boat as he did, hence the reason for camp.

We spent all summer learning to rig, tack, come about, plot a course, read the winds and currents, right a capsized boat, etc and it all culminated in a regatta for the students.

My brother was of course all gung ho, but I DID NOT want to sail in a race.

I was petrified.

The week before I had turned turtle in my boat, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, it means exactly as it sounds, the boat flipped completely over, shell up, with me underneath.

Obviously I managed to swim out from underneath, but I'll never forget the complete and utter panic. In the dark, ropes snaking around me, canvas slapping aginst my legs.

You get the picture.

Fast forward to race day. I cried the whole way to the regatta. I wanted to throw up. I WAS NOT under any circumstances going to get in that boat. My Dad was a sailor, a great one. I was NOT!

Even my mother, who normally could calm all my fears, was at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

Of course, now as a parent, I know they were trying to make me "get back up on the horse" so to speak.

We get to the lake and my Dad took me aside, squatted down next to me, took my shoulders, looked me right in the eyes and and said to me (as best as I can recollect)

"Lisa I know you are afraid. Afraid of capsizing, afraid of losing (perceptive man.... that one). But I don't care if you lose. And if you capsize I will be the first one to get to you. It's going to be okay, you just have to try. Just get in the boat and go to the first buoy and if you don't feel like you can do any more, come back to me at the dock. That's all you have to do. But I believe in you."

There it was, that last sentence.

I don't know if he had ever said that before. Probably, but that is the first time I remember him saying it.

So I climbed in the boat, pushed off from the dock and......................

won the regatta.

Funny thing, believing in someone.

It changes everything.

I have a pix of me in my little bikini, life jacket and tiller over my shoulder from that race. When I figure out how to upload it, I'll post it. Cause the smile on my face about says it all, not an ear splitting grin, but a shy, shocked smile.

Thanks Dad