Waves in the sea were my entire world. I was a girl with a dream; a dream that revolved around salty winds and glittering waters. My love for the water was ingrained in me from an early age by my parents, who were devoted swimmers and we had shared the same dream for years, for me to compete in the Olympic swimming competition someday.

My parents were my strongest supporters, mentors and coaches. They made me test my limits, helped me master my techniques and celebrated every little win with me while we spent endless hours at the pool. The water became our sanctuary, a place where our dreams intertwined.

But when we least expect it, fate has a way of altering the trajectory of our life. It was my parent’s anniversary and they were always big on celebrating small things in life. My dad planned out the entire celebration and was taking mum on a weekend trip to a resort. He was so excited for my mum to enjoy the trip.

They dropped me off at my aunt’s place, where I would be staying while they were gone, and kissed me goodbye, who knew that would be the last time I’d ever see them. It rained quite heavily that night and I woke up to the news of my parents passing away in a car accident.

Weeks grew into months as days continued to pass. The pool, which was once a source of happiness and shared dreams, turned into a mute observer of my grief. The vision we’d once shared had collapsed in the wake of the disaster. My dream of competing in Olympic swimming events turned into an unsettling reminder of the hole left by my parents’ absence.

I pulled myself away from the water as I felt as though the dream that had connected me to my parents was pulling me down into a pit of sadness.

It had been 11 months and life now felt a bit normal, not the same as before, but not too heavy. I hadn’t been to the beach or near water once in those 11 months. Then it was time for my birthday. Every year, I would celebrate my birthday on the beach with my family and friends, starting off with our customary surfing match and ending it with chocolate ice-cream.

So, I decided to revisit those memories by going on a stroll by the beach. Salty air and the echo of laughter felt quite similar and all the memories came back to me. As I watched the waves, I realised that maybe my love for the water instilled in me by my parents wasn’t a curse, but a source of a joy. All the memories that I want to cherish for life are interconnected with water, and maybe I shouldn’t let a tragedy cloud all the good moments I have shared in water with my parents.

I decided to step back into the pool and reclaim by position in the swimming team. Though the loss still hurt, the water turned into a cure and a place where I could respect my parents’ legacy. The seemingly broken dream started to take shape once more, this time as a source of strength rather than a burden.

Today, I am standing on the Olympic platform, which seems like the end of a journey that went beyond records and medals. Looking towards the water of the pool, I can see that my parents’ dream had not only lived, but had grown into something far more meaningful.

I closed my eyes and felt the presence of my parents beside me as the national anthem played.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 27th, 2024