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Treading Water
Treading Water
Treading Water
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Treading Water

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Treading Water is a compilation of different experiences in the author's life, that took her from a scared, broken, 26-year-old single mother, thinking of taking her own life, to a pretty well established mother, grandma, and great-grandma.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 12, 2024
ISBN9781958626832
Treading Water

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    Book preview

    Treading Water - Patrice Moyes Couch

    PROLOGUE

    I am no one really important. I am not writing this book to be a New York Times Bestseller. I am a wife, a mother, a grandma, a great-grandma, a sister, a niece, an aunt, a cousin, and a friend. It is my wish for my family, friends, and anyone else reading this to know the real me—the me that went from a young, struggling twenty-six-year-old single mother with absolutely no self-worth, contemplating taking my life, to the me that has the self-confidence to share my journey by writing and being able to speak to thousands of people.

    In doing research for this book, I have searched the archives of time, going through old files. I have kept every talk and presentation I have ever given. There are two common words that seem to resonate through them all: gratitude and resilience.

    Knowing there is a little girl still inside of me, it has been very emotional to see the growth and not really know when or where the genuine changes came.

    This book is not a memoir about my life. It is a compilation of different times in my life that helped shape me into the woman I am today and the lessons I learned along the way. The stories aren’t necessarily in any order of importance. Each story I share has impacted my life immensely in one way or another.

    I have learned forgiveness, both of myself and others, tolerance, integrity, and humility. I have learned how to be more generous, how to grieve, how to both give and receive service, how to love others, and also how to learn to love myself along the journey.

    Every time I would share with others the different stories of my life, some would gasp in awe, some would laugh so hard they would cry, and others would agree with my mother. She always said I had nine lives.

    In June 2022, I was able to attend a writer’s retreat at the Timepiece Ranch in Southern Utah. Author Richard Paul Evans was the host.

    In my individual time with Richard, he asked me what my dream for my book was. I said, Something to make my family proud of my life and decisions I have made throughout it. He said, What is one word? I said, Oh, I don’t know, maybe—survival? He suggested, How about resilience?

    I shared my Treasure Island story with him, and he said, "That is where you should start, with a possible title, Treading Water." He asked me to have a rough draft by January 2023.

    Resilience! The capacity to withstand or quickly recover from difficult conditions, or, being able to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed.¹ Yes, that’s me!

    In this book, Treading Water, I am sharing the different and sometimes difficult times in my life where I have been resilient both learning to love and to be loved.

    My dear friend, Jennifer Riggs, wrote, We all have a story we tell ourselves about who we are and what our life is like. The really amazing thing is that we have the power to choose the story we tell and that will change our reality.

    Everyone has a story. So mine begins…

    CHAPTER 1

    The most difficult decisions are often not

    the ones in which we cannot determine the correct

    course, rather the ones to which we are certain

    of the path, but fear the journey.

    – Richard Paul Evans, The Locket

    The water was warm and dark. As I worked my way out of the partially submerged car through the driver’s side window, all I could taste was salty water, and all I could think was, Where am I? The date was October 7, 1976, midnight, Treasure Island, Florida, and the movie JAWS had just been released.

    While I was treading water trying to figure out what had just happened, the car’s taillights went out, and the car was completely submerged.

    Earlier that day…

    The morning started as a very stressful day for me. My marriage was in shambles, crumbling right before my eyes. I was struggling for my very existence. My husband, Mark, and I were living in Phoenix, Arizona. I was a stay-at-home mom with a five-year-old daughter and a two-year-old son. We had been struggling for several months because of my husband’s extra-marital relationships. Divorce wasn’t in my vocabulary because I did not want to be a single mother. Religion had never been an important factor in our marriage. I was an inactive member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and he was a Southern Baptist. His family was living in Tampa, Florida, and had become involved with a church based in Pasadena, California, The Worldwide Church of God. This religion followed the Holy Days from the Old Testament.

    We had traveled this particular week to St. Petersburg, Florida, to be with his family for The Feast of Tabernacles, a weeklong conference of sermons, sermonettes, music, and prayer.

    I hated being there because I didn’t believe in WHY we were there—to celebrate the Holy Days with his parents, who never thought I was good enough for their son.

    However, on this day, a minister gave a sermonette, a short version of a lengthy sermon. He started it out with a story of three young adult girls who had decided to climb a dangerous mountain. As they began their ascent, a storm started to roll in. They were determined to continue to the top, but after several hours decided they needed to turn back. Shortly after they started back down, one of the girls started to struggle and said she couldn’t go any longer. Her friends pleaded with her to continue back with them, but she eventually gave up. As the other two friends continued their descent, she remained behind. They knew as they told her goodbye they may never see her again, but they also knew they had to continue back down. The two girls made it back safely because of their intense desire and quest to endure to the end and not give up. Sadly, their friend perished in the storm.

    As the minister walked from the podium, I was so touched. I could not tell you another sermon or sermonette I heard during that week, but his words hit my heart. ENDURE TO THE END!

    That night, Mark and I got away for a while and went to a movie. I had asked some friends to stay with our children for the evening at our hotel.

    Surprisingly, in spite of the conflicts in our marriage, we had a peaceful, enjoyable evening and were looking for a place to eat on our way back to Treasure Island.

    On the toll road between St. Petersburg and Treasure Island, the road separated and came back together several times. As we passed through the final toll booth in our rented red 1977 Cutlass Oldsmobile, Mark threw the coins in the basket and undid his seat belt. I thought that was strange. He also left his window down.

    As we came over the small rise at the beginning of a bridge, suddenly, he accelerated, started screaming, and drove us into the Boca Ciega Bay. I remember thinking, This is a dream! This can’t be happening! We hit the water about seventy-five feet from the

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