Tuesday, June 17 RENEE

Today was a day that I will never forget.

When I think about what seemed important this morning, the tears that came as I learned that I didn't get a teaching job that I so desperately wanted, it seems so minute compared to what mattered at the end of the day.

Because we spent so much time in the car yesterday, getting to the other side of the island and then driving through the canyon, today was deemed a relaxing, stay-close-to-home day.

This evening we ventured out to find a beach we had been told had fun rocks for cliff-jumping, which the children adore.  We weren't exactly sure of the location of the beach, and had to keep stopping and turning around and guessing at which beach was which according to our map.  A few of the beaches were being slammed by waves, and I was hesitant.  However, once we saw the rocks for jumping, in the distance, the waves seemed acceptable.  By this time, the kids were impatient and running towards the shore.  We had to cross a small fresh water river prior to getting to the beach.  The three boys flew past us running to the rock.  Unbeknownst to us, they would have to cross another portion of this river that was interconnected with the ocean in order to get to the rocks.  Having passed a similar crossing, without parents and without any hazards, the boys presumed it would be safe to cross the next one and wait for us on the rock.

The kiddos squished in the backseat of our rental car. 

The disgusting fish-head we saw on our drive to the beach.

Greg and I were carrying all of "the gear" that comes with taking a family to the beach, and trudging slowly through the sand.  There was a slight hill in the sand, so that for a few moments, we could no longer see the boys running ahead. Julia was walking just to the right of us.  In that moment I was more annoyed, than worried.  I vocalized my concern however, as we drew closer and the reality of the size of power of the waves struck me: "I sure hope they don't go in the water without us.  They wouldn't, would they?  Ugh.  I hate not being able to see them." At which point, Greg started to run... towels in arm... up the hill to see the boys.  I continued walking for a moment, fully expecting him to turn around momentarily and tease me for being a worry wart.  When he didn't, I began running as well.  The sound of his shouts echoes in my dreams at night, and still make my heart hurt.  Over and over again, he shouted, "Get out!  Get out!  Get out of the water!"  I had a pit in my stomach for each second that slowly ticked by and he was still yelling, meaning my boys were still not out.  When I was finally over the hill, I saw Tyler standing on the edge of the shore, Ethan barely getting on to shore, and Greg whipping off his t-shirt and running into the ocean towards what I only assumed was Jacob in the midst of giant waves.  Greg is an incredibly strong swimmer, and I can't help but feel that all of his swim meets and lifeguarding training were to prepare him for this day; to save his son.  I kept running straight for the water, and was able to grasp Jacob as Greg threw him to the shallow water, still in the depths of the waves himself.  Jacob was choking, gasping for air, and throwing up water.  I hugged and held him and cried hysterically as he burped and bawled.

In Greg's words:
Ethan and Jacob thought they were crossing a shallow 20 foot wide river (that leads to the ocean). The first five feet was six inches and then dropped off to about six feet without warning. It took seconds for both to get sucked into the ocean. The worst part was that there were jagged rocks immediately on left and huge 8 foot waves pounding the beach. Renee and I were about 50 yards behind and the rule is that they never go in the water without a parent.  They thought it was mild enough to break the rule.

Both got sucked out in the rip curl in second and getting pulled out to sea. Tyler decided to go into help and that is when I did the fastest sprint of my life. I kept yelling get out of the water over and over. I hit the water and saw three boys in the ocean getting pounded. Jacob was in worse shape as he was already 35 yards out to sea and leaving fast. Between waves Tyler was in knee deep water and above his head when they crashed down. He obeyed and got out. Ethan was able to push off from the rocks and then he got a break between waves and bolted for the shore. I focused all of my attention on Jacob. He was bobbing up and down. Every time his head went under my heart sank lower than it has ever before. My life guarding training really helped. I kept my eyes on his location the entire time. It felt like forever getting to him. I was able to grab hold of him and sidekick back to shore.

The look of fright on both of their faces was enough punishment for one year. 

If they had stayed out of the water, there is no way I would have let them touch the water. It was way too big for them. I was somewhat disappointed and somewhat pleased that Tyler risked going out to help save them. I told him he should have turned toward me and with two hands above his head wave them and yell help.

We have had countless safety talks here in Hawaii and while hiking in Montana. It is so hard as they have the urge to explore but can easily get in trouble.

Those seconds of not knowing if my children would live were the worst in my life. I cannot express the fear and anguish that filled my heart when I couldn't see those boys, and especially Jacob's bobbing head as those magnificent waves pummeled him.

Our family prayer this night was bittersweet.  Gathered in a circle, holding hands as we do each day, we all wept tears of gratitude.  Today was too close for comfort.  Family is all that really matters.  So, so grateful for mine.