The High Dive
I was a girl scout. We had a Daddy/Daughter Swim Olympics. Not being a very good swimmer, I was nervous. My Dad, however was a great swimmer so I placed my confidence in his ability.
The event’s climax was a diving contest for the Dad’s. Each were asked to dive, off the high dive, into a target. When they announced the event, I heard my Dad give a low groan. “Oh, man” was all he uttered. At that moment, I saw reluctance. I never knew my Dad was afraid of heights … or at least diving off the high dive. The look on his face was enough to communicate the full extent of his feelings
I treaded water in the shallow end while my Dad climbed the stairs of the high dive. The whole time his legs carried him up the rungs of the ladder, I kept thinking he might bail at any minute. His exterior did not reveal his inward trepidation. When he reached the top, he simply walked the plank and … dove. He dove off.
As his body floated down toward the target, I felt I couldn’t breath. When the water covered his submerged body like a liquid blanket I held my breath … waiting for the bubbles to part and my father to emerge. When he did, I went limp.
To this day, this is the bravest thing I have ever
seen. My Dad faced this fear … and dove
off.
Over the years, this event stands out to me every Father’s
day for two reasons. One, I think about this man that was given to me to call Daddy.
He was afraid. But what he did
with his fear made an impression on me.
He dove … still afraid … but dove ... none-the-less.
Secondly, I think the thing that makes me smile the most …
is that he did it for … me. The chubby
girl scout in the water knew how much her Dad dreaded this dive. Yet, he did it for me. Me.
Without any great showmanship or
production, my Dad showed me how special I was not only to him, but to my
heavenly Father.
Every time I see a high dive, I think of how well I am loved.
Tags:
dad
daddy's and daughters
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