Surfer Mom
With the surf contest coming to Arecibo next month, I’m reminded of my days as Surfer Mom. This is a revised and edited version of something I wrote in 2009.
I loved being a surfer mom. I used to be a karate mom...then a basketball, volleyball and dance mom… but I definitely enjoyed being a surfer mom the most.
Sometimes I wish I could be an actual surfer, but taking a tumble as a child scarred me for life. Sand in my suit, not knowing which way was up and gasping for breath is an experience I didn’t want to repeat.....but I certainly didn't want my kids to be scared of the ocean.
Living on an island, I was amazed at how many people didn’t know how to swim. I loved the water, but not the waves and wanted my kids to love the water too.
My son wanted to surf, but I needed to find an instructor to teach him. I found one through Surfrider Foundation, and in ninth grade my son started surfing. He took lessons with a small group of kids after school on Thursdays and on Saturdays. The mothers and I would do warmups with the class and then walk on the beach. His younger sister would come and we’d play volleyball on the beach or watch the boys in the water.
I was scared watching him. He looked like he was so far out. As the years went by, my fears diminished. With broad shoulders and fit arms, he was no longer the same skinny kid he was in ninth grade. He wasn’t a grouchy teenager; he became a nicer person when he surfed. It had a sort of Zen effect on his being. I was more relaxed on the beach. Once he started driving, there was not much I could do. My only rule was that he should never surf alone and that someone should be on the beach. I don’t know if he paid attention to any of it.
Once he was on his own, it was his sister’s turn. The surf class had changed. The same teacher was less disciplined and the group was bigger. Individual attention and paddling exercises were a thing of the past. With a couple of tips, she was on her own. No matter how many wipeouts, she was back out paddling to try again. She was somewhat fearless and I hid my fear. Once she started driving and I was no longer needed I hoped she was careful and there were watchful eyes on the beach.
I thought I’d keep going to the beach, but I got involved in my life in the mountains. TJ Ranch took up most of my time. Nowadays it’s not often I get to the ocean. It's only thirty minutes away, but it's another world. When I do go and see the blue water and feel the salty air, I’m reminded of my old Surfer Mom days and smile....and say, " I have to do this more often."
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