|This was not Andy's last swim.|
On a warm day in February, Andy took a little baby boy swim. My mom called me later in the day to tell me the story. I was sad about not being there to see it. My mom said she was out in the backyard piddling around and had Andy in the backyard with her. She looked around and saw him swimming in the water. My little man sneaked into the pool to cool off. Well into his senior years, he loved to swim. When he was an adolescent, he would swim in the pool with ice floating around.
Compare this to Abby’s last swim. I had to beg and plead for her to get in the water. Even then, she begrudgingly did it out of loyalty to me. However, like Andy, she needed help to get out. I was with Abby on her last swim so I could help her out easily.
Andy, on the other hand, didn’t have me around. He was stuck and stood there for a while. My mom lifted her shorts up and got on the steps to go behind Andy and help him out. It took effort, she said, but she got him out. She said the water was cold as hell. I asked her what she would have done had she not been able to get him out. “Call the fire department” she said. I don’t think she was being flippant. She was serious.
So, within a month of dying, my Baby Boy took his last swim. He went by himself because he still loved swimming. He enjoyed life all the way to the end.