I once loved swimming. Now though, whenever I go for a dip our local pool, especially with my son, it fills me with dread.

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Not that my gorgeous son causes me to feel down. He is just a toddler and loves to splash and play in the water. I am jealous of his sense of play. For me, wading into the pool, even with him by my side, and other kids and their mums and dads, leaves me feeling like I don't belong. Even haunted. As if I am a ghost floating between the swimmers and world of the dead.

Of course, the pool has always felt weird and difficult for me since my wife passed. She was a keen and talented swimmer. She also suffered from vaccine-induced long COVID and found relief from its severe pain in the water. My son and I loved to spend time with her in the pool as a family. One of her favourite things was to zoom him up and down through the water, its buoyancy giving her strength, and he loved to be in her arms, squealing with delight. Watching her swim with him, even when she was so sick, were some of the most precious moments of my life.

These days, without her, we attend a swimming program for children twice a week at nights in a primary school. The vibes, for me at least, are very strange, and most visits are the same. I help him into the water, and he slips willingly into its warmth, but it brings me little comfort. He giggles, and I try to smile at him, the effort in faking it making me feel worse. At the other end of the pool, parents with babies at the other end of the pool sing and clap with the trainers. They all seem so happy, so confident, not drained by loss like me.

I notice that sharp smell of chlorine, too. The smell brings with it powerful memories: me, as a kid, and jumping with glee into the deep end. Then, me carrying my wife from the pool after swimming with our son, her eyes closed from exhaustion. As my........

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