Lifeguard Moms: Loss, and Life.

Introduction

Perspectives on lifeguarding can be found through many mediums, not just critical rescues or high speed action. It is my firm belief that the stories and photos of this project should be a collaboration from the many talented people who surround and interact with the culture of lifeguarding. The following story shares a unique perspective of a “Lifeguard Mom“ who watched her kids grow from junior lifeguards to professional lifeguards. A simple yet important perspective of how lifeguarding is so much more than what it appears to be. Most of the images here are also taken by Sharon and her husband, an artistic perspective of parents who contributed to The Lifeguard Project, simultaneously integral to the viewpoint of the story ahead. I hope this paves a path for more people to expand their awareness of what an interesting lifeguard story is, to contribute, and share it with everyone here.

-The Lifeguard Project

Feature Story

For most people the beach is a haven of sun, sand, and relaxation, but when you have lost someone the inherent danger in life has revealed itself to you and cannot be unseen. While others lie on beach towels and splash in the surf under the watchful eyes of lifeguards and oblivious to all the things that can go wrong, my untrained eyes search with those lifesavers because I know what it is to lose a child.

Amidst southern pines, a year before moving to California my water broke, but labor didn’t progress as it should. The nightmare that ensued saved my life but not my stillborn baby’s.

Wrapped in a fog of shock and grief, we left my son’s ashes in the Atlantic Ocean and crossed the country for a new beginning along the Pacific Coast. But grief and the new fears it brings can’t be left behind like an old home. Pain was not just along for the ride; it became the journey.

As my military husband and two young sons found healing for their hearts in the California sunshine, I saw danger ever-present, lurking under blue skies. When my sons played in the surf, I was aware a rip current could tear them from my life, just as I had seen one son’s ashes slip away in a moment with the tide.

As other moms laughed and relaxed my eyes bounced from one wetsuit to the other, willing my children’s safety with vigilance.

When I heard about the Junior Lifeguard program on Camp Pendleton, I quickly signed my sons up so they could become as ocean safe as possible and gain both the skills and confidence that I didn’t know how to instill in them. I had no idea that to teach my children about the ocean, their instructors would have them swim out into the middle of it! Did that ever backfire! Although my concerns initially skyrocketed, I trusted the process and my sons returned safely to shore each time, eventually emerging at the end of subsequent summers as increasingly skillful watermen. Unlike the oblivious masses of beach goers, my sons began to understand the absolutes of nature and their responsibility to their community to watch out for and help each other.

Sharon’s son decorating a Camp Pendleton Junior Lifeguard cake.

For our family it was only by releasing our sons into the wilderness of the sea that we could gain young men who understand the reality of life and death and could become a lifeboat for others.

Sharon with her three boys at junior lifeguards.

Thankfully, there existed lifeguards who had taken the time to meet the ocean, spend time learning its language, and navigate its risks so that they could teach others. Saltwater heals a multitude of wounds and waves soothe the edges of our modern society into truth-filled reveries. There is a power in the ocean that cannot be explained, you must simply be drenched in it. In the winter my boys would cold plunge, surf, and return to school and life with stoic strength instilled by the frigidity of the water. During warm summer months the tide rocked our family back and forth day after day as we emerged with salty bleached locks and a sway within our soul that only the rhythm of the ocean can sing.

Sharon’s son Dave Mckeeman during a rescue board training at Cardiff State Beach. Cardiff, CA.

What to say of what came next? There is so much. The path is never easy, but our journey has beaten many paths along coastal strips of sand where waves pound formidable rocks into the softest grains. I walked along the sand heavy with four more children, only two of whom would join us earthside. Grief has become an unwelcome but well-known acquaintance. The son and daughter who joined us, I watched glimmer blond in blazing summer afternoons and run with hair whipping round them on windy sunset nights. There was more loss, and life, more failure and achievements, more fear and health, despair, triumph, mundane, dreams - back and forth - it’s all a tide. It’s all waves. We learned not to fear them, we learned instead how to help others navigate them together.

Now my oldest sons are adults, Aaron working as a fisherman, David working as a beach lifeguard and headed to UCLA. They didn’t let society’s stereotypes of lifeguards dissuade them from pursuing the ocean with a singular passion or keep them from spending long hours alert on boats and beaches protecting their communities.

I can’t think of any activity they could pursue that could make their minds more alert, agile, and empathetic with bodies ready to serve others.

Surf-livesaving championships in Australia.

My second oldest son David has even competed internationally in surf racing as a surf lifesaver, representing our nation, and helping the world understand the importance of the calling and profession of lifeguarding.

I could not be more proud or grateful as a mother. As I reflect on the traumatic loss and fear that drove me to sign my boys up for Junior Lifeguards, I think about every young guard that faces life and death in the course of a normal workday. While their peers flip burgers, they may perform CPR or swim out on a rescue they do not know if they will return from. I’m grateful to see that much of our society and institutions such as universities are transforming perspectives by acknowledging the value these lifesavers offer to our communities.

At the same time, I witness some decision makers give lip service to environmental concern and accessibility for diverse populations, but then fail to support, equip, and fund the lifeguarding programs that empower access and protect both coastal communities and landscapes. Lifeguards help everyone safely enjoy the physically and psychologically therapeutic benefits of the ocean and facilitate use of beaches in a manner that also safeguards its ecosystem.

There is still much work to do though, and I’m grateful The Lifeguard Project is shifting paradigms.

Sharon’s son Dave Mckeeman on duty with the City of Carlsbad Lifeguards. Carlsbad, CA.

Dave Mckeeman as a Junior Lifeguard Instructor.

My family has been healed and empowered by our experience with the ocean, and my sons have been mentored by men and women whose hearts and skillfulness have been enlarged by their time in the sea. This past summer as my son David prepared to represent the United States on the International Surf Lifesaving Team, he also trained up a crew of junior lifeguards as life came full circle for him. I think of those young men and women who can no longer hang out tanning oblivious at the beach, but instead are invested in keeping their community safe. I hope none of them will have to heal from the trauma of a life slipped away through no fault of their own like I was forced to. However, when some of them inevitably do wrestle with the aftermath of the harsh realities of nature, I pray that we will all be there for them. Sometimes the best we can do is understand that those who shoulder burdens and journey through grief hold a story within that they may not be able to articulate or may never have the opportunity to share in an article like this. As cheesy as it may sound, I hope we will thank them for their service and not just objectify the parts of their job that may seem glamorous or write long days at a lifeguard tower off as “easy.”

My sons played some sports and I cheered from the sidelines, but their hearts and primary efforts were always directed into the ocean. Lifeguarding is not easy to define from an “outsider” looking into its traditions or roles, but I guess I always thought of myself not as a “soccer mom” or “water polo” mom but as a “lifeguard mom.”

Is lifeguarding a job?

Community service?

A professional sport?

Which box should my son check on college applications to afford the appropriate understanding of such a valuable service which represents some of life’s most precious lessons?

Surely it’ s all of these things, and I have seen it throughout the development of my boys.

Most everyone will have to walk through fear and pain at some point on this earth. I believe we can find some realm of rest through the safety, service, and lessons instilled by lifeguarding. It is in the wild places that we can grapple with the uncertainty, power, and devastating beauty of life. And it is within communities who take responsibility to care for each other and quite literally guard lives, that we can find protection for our bodies and souls.

My mother’s heart whispers a thank you to all the lifeguards watching, waiting, and rescuing so that we can dip our feet into healing waters.

p.s. Junior Guard programs please keep those sandwich contests, bake offs, sunscreen-face-paint-art, award banquets, and summer competitions going… These community traditions are the lifeblood of fun that help turn little groms into caring, committed, full-grown lifeguards. If you know you know, and if you don’t then go watch a Junior Guard competition on any beach this summer - you won’t regret it.

-Sharon Mckeeman

Sharon McKeeman is a mother, military spouse, author, and visual and performing artist. She has lived in Southern California with her husband, three sons, and daughter for almost 15 years, and has been honored to watch her boys train in the Junior Lifeguard program and become professional lifeguards and watermen. You can experience more of Sharon’s story and follow her family’s adventures at @sharonmckeeman on Instagram and online at www.sharonmckeemanphoto.com