Waters

The shore was where I usually stayed. The safety of the beach was what I preferred even if it was empty. In the seaside, darkness ruled, but I didn't mind. I assumed that it is better to die on dry land than be crushed by the waves of life. Because I too was a shallow creature whose only possession was brokenness.

I was scared of the waters for so many years, possibly because I never learned how to swim. Some people tried to teach me, but I ended up drowning every time I tried. How could I learn? My arms were broken.

But my dad is a different story. And I guess that is how was able to set me free, by making me more like him and less like me.

In the beginning, he created my set. Now my world was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of my deep. But then there he was, hovering over the waters, on the very thing I was scared of. He was above it. Later, after he lit up my world he collected the waters and set boundaries for them. When he is done working on something, he usually says that it is good. But my heart didn't know for sure that my life would be "good" as he uttered it to be, because someone other than him taught me the safety of the shore and that swimming is the only way to cross the waters. That is how I made my fortress on the far side.

His relationship with the waters though is very peculiar. He either parts them or walks on them, never being taken away by them.

One night, I was out on the sea with my brothers. Although they were excellent swimmers, they bought a yacht so I could go with them. For the first time in my life, I was excited to test the waters because I knew I could bring my comfort zone with me. What could happen if I stayed on the yacht?  Nothing, I thought. And my brothers will be with me. So there is nothing to be scared of. I saw the corner of my dad's face grinning as if he heard my thoughts. He was working in his home office corner, as he usually does. "I will come along too," he said. "Go before me, I will come out after I finish this." I was even more excited.

I don't know why we chose the night instead of the day. Maybe because some parts of us knew it wasn't an ordinary night.

At first, the sea was obedient. Now, it ain't bad. Is it? I told myself. Its tranquility had a sort of mesmerizing beauty. It even reminded me of my father himself. Water is powerful, I could feel its power even if I was in the yacht, and at the same time calm enough to carry me. The sameness ends there. Because the moment I thought of this the wind came by and the waves started to grow bigger. Water does not know mercy once it has lost its tranquility, but the father does. 

The wind then turned into a storm, and Me and my brothers were out there, right at the heart of the sea, helpless. Even the best swimmers wouldn't dare the water when it was tumultuous. It would overpower them.

I started to panic in the middle of this. Even the air obeyed the waters because it left my lungs and focused on pushing me to the sides. My yacht can't save me! I thought.

"You are right, it wouldn't," I heard a familiar voice nearby. And with that, my brother started to shout "Ghost!" Just a second later, as if on cue the others followed him and started to storm with the storm. "Come down now, it is only me, your father," he yelled. Father?  

"Who wants to play soccer?" he shouted over the wind. We all stayed stunned not knowing what to say. "Come on, I brought a ball with me. I thought we were going to have family time," he added when no one spoke. It is then that I realized he was standing on the water holding the soccer ball. Eyes were opened wide, and jaws dropped. But somehow, I knew it was him himself, not a ghost. He told me he was coming so I believed.

"The yacht is not safe anymore, if I die I would want to be near to you," I finally spoke. "Good." was all he said. So I stepped out, not because I wasn't scared, not because I believed I could walk on the water, but simply because I wanted to be near him. I shut down my mind for a moment and tried to run without thinking. But then he threw the ball and told me to catch it. It slipt my hands. So I looked down to pick up the floating ball, and my mind was turned back on. It was quick, sinking. One minute I was desperate to reach my father, and the next I was dying. But at that moment, instead of seeing my life flashing before my eyes, I simply thought, death has always been near, waiting for an opportunity to seize me. But it never got me. Why would it now?

It was then that I saw father's face above the waters. Seconds later, I was back standing on the waters. "You are right," he said holding me into position. "The yacht can't save you from death. Death can't seize you because I never let it. And if you want to stay near me as you did back there, you have nothing to fear. Now, I came down here to play," he smiled. And I believed, not that the water could hold me, but that my father can. Not that I could swim my way out, but that he will carry me through the storm.

And so it happened, he turned the sea into a playground.