by Kerri Ladish
My father has always been the water around me, my intimate connection with forces and natural powers far beyond my control. He is forever drowned, forever diving deeper than I can go without my lungs beginning to ache within my chest, without my ears beginning to ring in pain, or my nose absorbing lake water, salt water, pool water. I crave being immersed, crave feeling strong and certain in the water, determined to never drown. Weeks after his body floated to the top of a river I convinced myself I would navigate the icy current that flooded my father's last breath, and live. I would spite her, for him. I save him now, when it counts for nothing.
Kerri Ladish is a freelance writer living in Portland, Oregon with a pug named after Iggy Pop. More of her writing can be found here.