32 Oak Street
Starting Over

Twenty Summers in the Same Shallow End

by CloisterMug15 · 1mo

The new job paid every other Friday. First payday, I took my kids to the public pool down by the river.

I sat on the edge of the shallow end while they splashed. My feet dangled in water that barely reached my knees.

The counter had a pickle jar full of buttons nobody had claimed. Little circles of plastic and metal, sorted by no one, just sitting there.

I haven't sat in this shallow end since I was a kid. Back then I was scared of the deep end. Later I was scared of everything else.

My brother Mike used to push me in. He'd laugh while I choked on water. I learned to doggy paddle, but I never got comfortable.

Twenty years I stayed out of pools altogether. Until today. Until this job, this paycheck, this hot Friday.

My youngest asked me to come in. I lowered myself into the water. It was still only chest-high, but it felt like a start.

The buttons in the jar glinted under the chlorine light. Nobody was coming back for them. But I was here.

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Twenty Summers in the Same Shallow End — 32 Oak Street