“Sharing tales of those we’ve lost is how we keep from really losing them.” – Mitch Albom, For One More Day
Many years ago, Jason and I were swimming in a friend’s above-ground pool. David was with us, as usual. I’m guessing he is like five/six… maybe older, but not by much. In those days—listen to me sounding like an old man already—but literally in those days, child services wasn’t called when you went swimming unsupervised several blocks from the nearest adult.
So Jason and I are swimming around, doing the usual things you do in an above-ground pool. Whirlpool, holding-your-breath competitions, some sort of wrestling in which we mimicked our favorite wrestlers at the time. Hulk Hogan was just coming into the scene. Jimmy SuperFly Snuka was my favorite.
So we’re just cruising about, and at some point, Jason and I get out of the pool. Or maybe we are at the other side of the pool. Long story short: David just walks up and takes a plunge. He hasn’t had a single swimming lesson and basically does what one does without swimming lessons: He sinks.
I don’t know if it was me or Jason, or the both of us combined. In my mind, I snagged David out of the water, but Jason may say the same thing. It’s a muddled memory. Either way, we get him out of the pool. David is really shook. Like, he is spooked. So we have to walk sopping wet back to our grandparent’s place, and we explain what happened. Grandmas, as they do, just kind of take control of the situation and calms David down. I recall him crying and kind of just losing it the whole way back.
For the rest of time, David had hydrophobia. Any of you who know him will recall it was very rare he swam or played in the deep end. If you watched him swim, it was a very-panicked doggy paddle, and his head was constantly above the water. He would use the jet skis often enough, but I think the vest provided him enough security.
Fast forward a couple years, and we are having the best summer ever. I mean the best—everything is just coming together. While we had lost our mom months before, David and I were getting along really well. It felt as if everything was going to be alright, and somehow we were going to make it through all this.
David, in usual fashion, waded into the lake but never too deep. I decided to take the speedboat out and take some people wake-boarding. So we load up and realize pretty much none us know how to do it. So we watch the most spectacular crashes, and just great hilarity ensues. The wipeouts were epic. I come back in and snag the next group, and this time David comes with.
I have never gone wake-boarding before, so I ask somebody to grab the wheel. (To this point, nobody has stood up.) So I plop into the water and get all attached, as I think we should. I think to myself, “This is just snowboarding with a tow-rope.” So I give the signal to get going. I’ve got my left leg pointed forward, and a couple more feet, I am up and cruising. First try and I’m up and about, the movements very similar to snowboarding, steering-wise. I get all cocky and decide I am going to ollie the wake and go wake to wake. I pay the piper with something akin to a belly-flop slash nosedive slash swan-something or other.
I’m in pain. But my adrenaline is flowing. So I take a few more runs. This time, I am a little more reserved but overall fun times. As the boats pulls around to pick me up, David just jumps head first into the water.
I am beside myself. David jumping head first into the water? Just not something that happens. He snags the board from me and is like, “I’m gonna give it a go.” So I give him a couple pointers on what worked for me. We had a way of being able to talk to one another about balance and what not, which made sense. So I hop in and grab the wheel.
The Price bros are going to both stand up first time. So I gauge the speed needed; he gives me the thumbs up. Away we go. Same thing: David is up in no time, as well… gets cocky and pays the piper. He goes a few more times each time, pushing it harder and harder until he is using one hand and throwing “shakas” like they are going out of business. True David fashion all the way. I was very, very stoked that afternoon. I really wish I had a picture of his face. It was pure happiness.
I experienced and helped my brother overcome one of his biggest fears that day. It’s one of those days when you actually feel like a big brother.
When we got home later that evening, I got a call from him. “Let’s buy a lakehouse and powerboat. I want to do that all summer long.” My only response was, “Hell yes, let’s do that!”
While we never did, and that’s okay, I think had he stuck with us, we would have. But to have that memory on a rainy fall day… well, I guess that’s good enough for now.
