Letting Go of the Concrete

By: Rachel Parker

| Published on April 14, 2025 in Beautiful Things by Riverteeth Journal |

My son is terrified of the water.

Each time he steps in, his small back tenses, his teeth clench, his lip quivers. Last summer, he taught himself to traverse the entire perimeter of the pool by clinging to its border—inch by painstaking inch—rather than daring to float across its risky middle. His fingertips leave little, damp prints along the pool’s edge that fade almost as quickly as they appear, marking the boundary between concrete and water, known and unknown.

I grip my own certainties just as tightly, knuckles white against the familiar.

He is taking lessons now. Week by week, his small acts of courage accumulate: first he dips his head beneath the pool’s glassy surface, then kicks his legs while clinging to a foam float. The instructor stands nearby, a scaffold between concrete certainty and uncertain depths.

Then one day, in what feels like a small miracle, he lets his body lean back, surrendering to the water’s hold. For a moment, he floats, suspended between trust and fear.