Enjoy our weeklong series leading up to the Summer Games!
I grew up the youngest of seven kids to two high-achieving parents. My older siblings were all gifted. One of my sisters scored perfectly on the math portion of her SAT and secured a full ride to Carnegie Mellon. My oldest brother, a renowned violinist, sailed his way to Notre Dame on being the best at everything he did. I grew up watching my beautiful sister dance her way as a classical ballerina all the way to the American Ballet company in New York. I sat through endless graduations of my middle brother who graduated from medical and law school at the very same time, and was the youngest in the state of Illinois to pass the bar exam that year. And I remember visiting another brother at the seminary as he prepared to become a priest, my mother’s greatest joy!
The list of amazing things about my older brothers and sisters goes on and on. As a kid, I felt the watching eye of my parents. They were likely trying to figure out what my gift was, because I don’t think anything was standing out to them.
One day, my mom tossed me in the pool at the Y down the street. And, to her surprise, I could swim. It was something natural to me. This became something that I learned easily. I was coachable. I was strong. And my dad loved this about me. He loved pretty much everything about me, but it was something special we shared. My dad was a natural athlete, and he saw this in me as well. He videotaped every meet, encouraged every swim, and I vividly remember the large camera lens at the finish of my early races all the way through high school, and my dad’s voice saying, “PJ, what was your time?”
My dad taught me that swimming was always about my personal best. It was about racing the clock and not necessarily being the winner. If I won, he thought it was pretty great, but when I got a best time, he was even prouder of me.
Swimming in the Love of God
We expanded my swimming to father-daughter triathlons. These started when I was 8 years old. I would always finish first in the swims, even with the awful seaweed in the open swim races. But I wasn’t the strongest in the bike and run. Regardless, my dad and I raced them together. He was the steadiest person I ever met. The best distance partner anyone could ask for.
For the last eight years, my dad battled Alzheimer’s disease. A few of us helped cared for him. Six months ago, my sister and I held my dad in our arms, and we listened to his last heart beats until he left us.
His heart was so strong, the last part of him to go. I know it is because of all the times were spent together. Swimming, running, biking, talking about life, encouraging me through the hard hills, the open water swims, through the slime and mud of open waters when I couldn’t see the bottom. Encouraging me through the tough losses. Even when I didn’t get my best times, he still wanted to know what the time was. I think it was because swimming was my gift from God. What a gift—to be active with my dad! And even though I never won big meets or got scholarships to college or made it to the Olympics, I know I made my dad proud, simply because he loved me. And to me, this is how I know God loves me unconditionally.
Through swimming and my dad, I helped to learn this immense love from God.
1 thought on “Spirituality & Sport: Swimming in Grace”
I cried when I read this blog entry. What a loving piece. God came to PJ through her flesh and blood loving father. I am a lap swimmer and in no way as talented as PJ or my brother a competitive swimmer and ultra athlete, but I think the water is mystical. I feel washed in God’s love when I swim a mile almost every day. Swimming is a contemplative practice for me. Thank you for sharing this touching memory.