On Goodness

I want to tell you a story about two of the people who saved my sister-in-law’s life and who tried to save my brother Sam who died of a heart attack while snorkeling. My brain is changing with this story in it. It’s recalibrating. My brain keeps whispering to me: goodness, goodness, goodness.

It was a hot day in Puerto Rico, and Cat and her husband Bert were travel weary. Bert had recently broken his toe. Cat was four weeks pregnant, but she did not know this yet. They decided that even though they were in their street clothes, they would go stand in the water. The ocean had looked blue and calm from a distance, but the waves were moving sideways, and it was difficult to keep their balance in the water’s pull.

At first, they weren’t sure if the woman in the distance was shouting because she was having a good time or because she needed help, but then they knew. Cat was a firefighter and Bert had trained to be a New York City police officer, like his mom—the first Puerto Rican woman to become a sergeant on the force.

There were many people on the beach, but at first only Cat and Bert began to swim out towards the two figures in the distance. A third man, also coincidentally a firefighter, followed them. I haven’t talked with him yet, and so I will tell his story another time. It took them a while to get to Ashley and my brother Sam, who was unconscious, and when they did, Cat took Ashley, and Bert and the other man took Sam. Soon the tide separated them, and Cat was hundreds of yards behind with Ash.

Bert had roots in Puerto Rico; the ocean had never intimidated him, but now it didn’t matter how hard he tried, they weren’t getting closer to shore. He was exhausted and beginning to panic. The waves were hitting his face, and he was swallowing water. Cat called to him to take breaks, to lie on his back, and so even though all he wanted to do was get Sam to shore, he did these things. He and the other man had hooked a swim noodle under Sam’s arms, and they used that to pull Sam’s unconscious body with them.

When they got close to shore, Bert tried to stand, but he collapsed into the water. Cat yelled for him to crawl, and in that way, they got Sam to the group of nurses who happened to have been there on vacation and who sprang into action to do what they could to bring Sam back. The beach was remote, and so it took the paramedics 45 minutes to get to Sam’s dead body.

Every day for three months Bert searched the internet for any information about the couple he and his wife and risked their lives to save, but the Puerto Rico paper had misspelled Sam’s last name.

The not-knowing haunted Bert and Cat. Bert, I think,

What could I have done differently? What if I had been able to swim faster. What if I hadn’t had to take breaks? Would Sam still be alive?

Somehow, Bert found a post I had done about Sam on Facebook. I’m not clear on those details because I was too busy seeing Sam in Bert’s face to ask. The beard. The kind eyes. The skin. The fact that Bert had been so close to Sam. How did I know for sure that Sam’s spirit had not ducked inside Bert as a safe haven? How did I not know that Sam was there with us?

(There was nothing Bert or Cat could have done differently. Sam had died before they got to him. But they saved Ashley, and they got Sam’s body to shore. This is the stuff of heroes.)

As Bert and Cat told me their story, I watched Cat as Bert talked because he had spent the most time with Sam, and so he had more to say. Bert was a baseball player, and he had the demeanor of someone who had been trained to keep his eye on the ball, and to win. As I’d mentioned earlier, Cat was a firefighter, and she had the demeanor of a living rock. If someone were clinbing up a ladder to save me, I would want it to be her. I want to talk more about Cat here. It’s interesting watching couples watch the other tell stories each person had been a witness to. There can be interrupting, impatience, a bored looking away. Cat did none of those things as Bert talked about trying to save Sam. She listened. She was now, I think, nine weeks pregnant, and what I thought as I watched her watch her husband talk about what had happened out there in the water was, She is going to make a great mom.

This is what I thought of both of them as I listened to them share about the day, as I watched Bert get still and listen when Cat talked: They are going to make great parents. Look at what they will do for a stranger! What would they not do for their own child?!

It’s easy to forget how inherently good people can be with the chaos that is the world right now. But, damn, are we amazing. Damn, can we do things that others will talk about for the rest of their lives.

Damn.

Sam would have loved them.

I’ll love them for him.

If you ever need a babysitter, Cat and Bert, you call me. I’ll find you. May your baby girl have the most wonderful life. She’s in such capable hands.

I can’t even imagine what Sam is doing with the fact that her middle name will be Samantha. I hope he knows. I hope he knows how much he mattered to all of us.

All of my heart thanks you. I so look forward to talking with the others who were there that day so I can thank them, too.

Blessings.