Today, Valentine's day marks the four year anniversary since my health permanently changed. I am so elated to be alive, to have come so far. It's amazing just how rapidly time flies. So much good/bad has happened in this brief time span. And I recognize the life lessons, the gifts that each experience has presented.

I did flip turns this morning in the pool during my usual swim!

Each Sunday I attempt this next challenge on my list of things to learn. The pool is less crowded on this day and at this hour.

Routinely I study YouTube swimming videos, Watch the same stroke over and over again. Lately I watch these videos prior to entering pool so that the techniques are fresh in my mind.

Lately I've been struggling to learn breaststroke. Somehow my feet are not doing what they are supposed to do. I avoid spreading my knees and legs too wide, nonetheless. I have yet to get it just right. But optimistic and determined, I feel closer and closer each time.

Right after that surprising first flip turn, omg! I nearly cried, filled with immense joy this morning. Soon as I got my body around for the very first time I came up above the water immediately. Shocked, though yelling, "I did it. I did it!" Swimmers and lifeguards looked in my direction. Possibly wondering if I was okay.

I motioned to one of the lifeguard (who has been kindly giving me pointers throughout my swim quest journey. She also helped my 21 year old son with swimming during his youth).  "I turned. I finally did a flip turn. Did you see it?!"

Eventually she stood and watched. Me, hoping to do as well as I think I did it the first time. I proceeded to attempt the flip again. Around again I did it. Though, far from the wall. And not as polished as I'd like, still, I was turning.

I continued to swim my usual laps, happily. Periodically sharing with fellow swimmers my accomplishment. Others knowing of my long-term efforts congratulated me. With each complete lap, I'd flip again. Though far from the wall still, and occasionally experiencing the discomfort from not breathing out through my nose, I tried and tried again.

I'm back. From what, I can't explain. Life happens - up's, down's, even sideways.

Finally, I'm inspired to blog. Write about something hopefully others will find inspiring.

After my early morning, 2-hour swim today, a fellow swimmer approached me. Commented on how well I swim. Puzzled, I insecurely replied, "thank you".

She and I continued to chat. We've seen each other during this swim hour but never acquainted ourselves with one another.

During my swim, I was feeling emotionally heavy. Weighted from the recent stresses I've been overwhelmed with [I'll elaborate more once these unpleasant Mother-issues resolve themselves].

Each lap I took, thoughts of fear and worry and anxiety occupied my workout. I feel healthy and safest in the water. In my mind {which resorts back to a horrific childhood}, I keep telling myself that I will survive this. I will be okay. My mother can no longer harm me.

Freestyle, breaststroke, freestyle, breaststroke, with an occasional butterfly, I consistently swam strong and fluid as if my life depended on it.

The woman went on and on about how well and strong I swam. She's watched me each time. And is impressed with what she see's. How I glide effortlessly down the lane. The speed, the consistency.

Yes, my words, but the jest of what she was saying is clear. And my feelings of insecurity slowly evaporated. Not because of someone's opinion of me, but because of my opinion of myself.

I've been overwhelmed by these extra burdening circumstances. That my only control is to stay away and not get involved w/my mother. And here I've been, letting something/someone toxic and nasty steal my joy. My inner peace. And it takes a stranger to help me recognize the destruction I've been allowing.

As the woman and I conversed, I shared with her briefly that it'll be four years this Valentine's Day since I survived a stroke/renal failure. 2014 I couldn't walk, talk, swallow, chew, read, write, etc. And here I am, a fairly new swimmer (learned in 2016), impressing someone with my abilities.

She, with disabilities of her own was inspired. Her eyes watered as she smiled, thanking me for sharing my survival story and being an inspiration to her.

Imagine that. I did something for someone else when I needed something -- maybe the most in that hour. In the end, we helped each other. As I continued to finish off my wet routine, I immediately regained my confidence. Was grateful she saw me and I saw.