What I Learned From The Hairy Barrel

What I Learned From The Hairy Barrel

“Okay now, jump in! I want to see you jump in the pool!”

If you see a picture of me when I was a kid you would see a stick girl. I had no “extra padding,” so I froze on June mornings when I stood at the side of the pool with other shivering children for swimming lessons.

Norm—I think that was his name—was the swimming teacher.  I wasn’t supposed to know he had a first name I called him Mr. ____.  I can’t remember his last name. My aunt knew him though and she called him Norm.

He looked like a barrel with legs and a round head on hardly a neck.  I remember wondering what was wrong with him because my father wasn’t nearly as hairy as Mr. Hairy Barrel. I also somehow thought he was warmer than I was on those mornings.  He had fur to keep him warm.

“Jump in! Come on jump in!” he urged us as he stood in crystal blue pool water up to his waist. One by one we jumped in.  When it was my turn, I jumped toward Mr. Hairy Barrel without hesitating. 

I hit the water with both feet. Water bubbled all around me and closed above my head. I found my feet, pushed from the bottom, and shot partly out of the water like a tiny breaching whale. The water felt warm after a moment and it was fun to be so agile and weightless.

 I was a little afraid of Norm Hairy Barrel, but I did learn to swim. I still know how and love it, even though I’m a larger breaching whale nowadays.

Norm Hairy Barrel taught me something else too.  I still jump in with both feet. Shayna and Rachel need a home and pseudo-family? Sure we’ll take them. A local charity needs a yard sale fund rasier? Sure I’ll organize it. Christine needs pies for her wedding? Of course I can make them. You’re lonely? Sure I can be your friend.

I jump in and usually find that the water closes over my head, then I find my feet and enjoy my splashing around. Thanks to Mr. Hairy Barrel, I can jump in and find that the water is a fine, fine, place to be.