Caitlyn spends the next hour or so jumping off the pier. She doesn’t go all the way to the end. The pier goes out about sixty feet, so it’d be a bit of a swim back every time. She could do it. I have no doubt of that. Our apartment back in Portsmouth was terrible but the one bright spot was that it had a swimming pool. Caitlyn spent almost every day of her summers splashing around. Whenever Nicole and I wanted some alone time, we’d encourage her to go swimming so she’d be tired and go to bed early. So, Caitlyn is a fantastic swimmer, but until she’s used to swimming in the lake, I don’t want her jumping off the end of the pier, where it’s really deep. However, she seems perfectly content to jump from the side.

Eventually, she gets bored of it and swims up to my side. I know what’s coming.

“Throw me, Dad!” she screams as she leaps up at me.

I catch her under the arms and hurl her away into deeper water. Her arms flail and she laughingly screams as she flies through the air and splashes down.

This was our favorite game when I would join her in the pool in Portsmouth.

Before she resurfaces, I duck down and swim a few strokes underwater. She’s going to try to find me. This is how our little game works. I hold my breath for as long as I can and then burst upwards. She tries to catch up to me as I go back under and swim away slowly so that she can catch up. When I resurface, she’s right next to me. She leaps up, I grab her arms, and throw her, again.

We would play this every day in the summer at the apartment pool, and I can tell you that every year, it gets more and more exhausting. I’m getting older and she’s getting bigger. Which is why I wouldn’t miss this for anything, no matter how tired I might be, because one day, I won’t be able to do it.

And Caitlyn’s loving this.

At the apartment pool, she could see where I was going, but the darkened water of the lake makes it a little more of a challenge.

We keep playing. She screams with delight every time I throw her, but soon, I can’t throw her as far. I’m so tired that I stop going underwater in between throws. She swims back, laughing and crying out, “Throw me, Dad!”

I do.

Again, and again, and again.

While my enthusiasm is quickly draining, Caitlyn is showing no signs of slowing down.

“Throw me!”

I grunt as I hurl her away.

SPLASH!

Her head bobs out of the water and she comes paddling back.

“Again!”

“Okay.”