September 2004, Homecoming. Jenna and friends came by to see Aaron before going out for the evening. The girls were going to homecoming dinner and dance boy-less. Aaron was home from MBA for one more night. He was glad to see everyone and he was getting himself mentally ready to return to Mount Bachelor. The girls all had their pictures taken with Aaron. Moms came by to get in on the photo opportunity. The kids were 17 and 18 three years ago, almost to the day. How precious the day would be we did not know.
I knew the day would come when Aaron's friends would begin getting married. Living day to day it's healthy to not project into the future but of course I always did. "What is it going to be like in 4 or 5 years when the kids are getting married? Will we fall apart all over again? God, it'll be sad to see everyone without Aaron."
Cathy and I grew up in Antigo. We didn't have a community swimming pool, we had The Mud Hole. There was sand on the edge and mud beyond the rope. A diving board was a hundred or so feet above the water in an area with a concrete wall and wire fence. You couldn't, or in my case didn't have to, jump off of the diving board until you swam across the pond, beyond the rope, where you couldn't touch bottom and wouldn't want to. I watched kids take the challenge. They slipped into the water on the east side, swam behind the boat while the rowing life guard used the paddles to splash water at the swimmer and the guard in the back of the boat berrated the swimmer with taunts about drowning. That's the way it looked to me from the shore. The stories told by the big kids convinced me that I was seeing what I heard.
I never went into the mud hole without testing the water with my toes. Everyone of my friends would race down the hill, jump off of their bikes, drop their towels and sprint into the water. I did all of that except at the edge, I tested the water. At best I could do a quick wade. Sometimes, I would back-up and run in lifting my feet out of the water as if I could prevent getting into the cold pond by running on top of the water.
There was no reason to ever jump off of the 10 story board. Some guys could do amazing dives. I can still see them motoring down to the end, bouncing, springing into the air, the board would go BA-RROOOMROOOOMROOOOOOMROOOMRooooomm, and the kid would summersault and splash head first into the water. Cool. As we got older and more of my friends made the swim, fewer of us were left watching at the fence. I never left the fence.
I was probably 12 or 13 when I jumped off of the diving board. Sleep-outs were the best way to explore the city as a pre-teen. We went everywhere after midnight. With six years of preparation, in the middle of a summer night, I jumped feet first off of the board. I was swimming to the surface before I hit the water. I don't know if I touched the bottom, but I did reach the surface and made it to shore. It wasn't that bad. The board was closer to the water than I thought. The Mud-Hole was filled in long ago.
The wedding was beautiful. I enjoyed seeing the kids having fun and being dressed up for real. Their lives go on and that's a good thing. I'm grateful that Aaron's friends are living life.
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