He died

Those were the unbelieveable words spoken to me this morning when I entered the pool for my swim.  For a month, a fellow swimmer and I had wondered, "Where's J...?  Have you seen him?  I haven't seen him in the pool for a long time," I had said on a number of occasions to this pool buddy.  The sad, sad reality was that our mutual pool buddy had perished in early August in a tragic climbing accident in Kananaskis. 

He was only 42 years old. 

People die in climbing accidents out here, it's a risky sport.  But after 25 years at it, J was a very experienced and responsible climber.  He was like that in the pool too.  Helpful and friendly, he followed lane etiquette and was actually the guy who patiently helped me perfect my flip turn after my many years of doing a lousy one.  "Push down with your right hand on your last stroke, don't stop and keep your eyes on the blue centre line as you flip," he had instructed me.  "That way you'll go straight because your head follows your eyes and your body follows your head."  He was right, it worked like a charm. 

I pretty much lost it this morning because swimming in the lane beside us for the first time since his death was his lovely widow, L.  Over she swam and we hugged each other.  Ridiculous as it seems, I was so stricken and shocked, she was actually consoling me, for Gawd's sake.  And I had only known him for a couple of years at the pool, in the water. 

As word spread among others who had known him, many of us stopped swimming to share our shock.  That's the strange thing about lap swimming.  You get to know people pretty well, although you never know their last names and mainly restrict your outside contact to the occasional coffee with a few.  But when you're in the pool pounding laps together, a camaraderie develops.  J was part of that group of which I feel privileged to be a member. 

As I did my laps today, I dedicated every flip turn to J and cried into my fogged-up goggles for much of the swim.  So, farewell J, you were a great guy and are deeply missed by those of us lucky enough to have shared a lane with you.