In 1971 there was a time I was dying. In a yacht on Lake Tarawera. And my brother saved me. I was a young girl in my yacht with my brother. We canned out and I, like my brother, fell into the dark and cold gloom of Lake Tarawera.in New Zealand's North Island. It did not matter where it happened, but that it happened.
We were going to die. Cold water. Deep, cold, dark and endless water.
I can still remember the swirl of the water and the cold grave that I was confronting. All these years later. My vision was gone; the water so dark and dense; my movement was becoming limited due to the cold and I was immersed in a deep darkness that I have never seen before or since.
I was dying. Suddenly, I felt a tug at my feet.
It was my brother.
My parka was weighing me down. My feet were entwined. He was supporting me in the upturned cabin of the yacht.
The lake water was cold and it was dark and had limited visibility – yet he dove down and repeatedly tried to release my feet from the rope.
We were both cold and, even today, all these years later, I can remember with clarity, that we were both fighting for our lives.
Only my brother did not have to.
He was free.
He could have swum away and said that I was lost. Drowned. But he did not. He kept diving down and coming up. He worked his arse off to save me. And he did.
He freed my legs from the ropes and held my hand and swam with me to safety on the top of the upturned yacht.
I cannot help but think that we are drowning right now. Seriously.
Our feet are caught in the sheeting and we are being pulled under.
Where is our big brother? Isn’t our government supposed to be our big brother?
Not OUR BIG BROTHER.
1984 is usurping 1971 and, for myself, I prefer MY Big Brother to Jacinda Ardern’s BIG BROTHER government. Or many of our State Governments in Australia and America.
Thanks brother, you saved my life, and God bless you.
Brothers look after you. They do not spy on you, betray you or leave you to drown.
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