Work done before 2 p.m. each day so that Scott could go swimming in Big Shoal Bay. I sat on the diving rock, keeping him safe, watching the joy. Once in a while, he would time out, losing tether to where he was, I think, and he'd stall, bobbing in the water. I'd say to myself "please bring back his blessing," and soon he'd be doing strokes, somersaults and smiling. I'd say "thank you." Lots of tears splashed on that ol' no-longer-submerged diving rock; some grief heated, more warmed with love.