Yesterday was Memorial Day. Like many Americans, we spent it at the lake. The sky was still overcast from a relentless rainy season, however, it did not stop my children from taking a dip.

They begged me to get in. The lake looked murky and I did not want to go through the painful experience of putting on a bathing suit for the first time this season. However, in my quest to participate rather than observe my children’s lives, I finally succumbed to the pleas and put on my suit along with a borrowed pair of outdated high-rise pleated shorts that went up to my boobs and my father-in-law’s tee-shirt that went down to my knees. Looking lovely I made my way out to the dock.

I stood there, looking at the cold, muddy water, trying to muster the courage to plunge. My son and his cousin Mindy started chanting “JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!” After six deep breaths and a quick prayer, I leaped while screaming at the top of my lungs.

As the frigid water consumed me, I immediately regretted my decision. I flapped around trying to get warm and to get to a place where I could stand. When I finally got my bearings, I heard the kids cheering. They were thrilled that I left the grown-up world for an instant and entered into their territory. As I stood there shivering and begging for a towel, my regret started slipping away. Yes it was cold, yes it was dirty, yes, it was uncomfortable, but, you know what? It made a memory. No I won't regret it - even though I still smell a little like lake water.

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