About a year ago, my family and I went on a camping trip.  We packed and journeyed to a beautiful state park along the coast of Lake Michigan.
On a gorgeous summer day, we explored our surroundings and found ourselves walking on a concrete pier jutting into the endless blue water.
At the end of the pier sat a lighthouse and as we stood, staring at the horizon, my sons asked if they could jump into the cool depths.
At first I frowned upon this.  Sometimes jumping into unknown water can be dangerous I said.  But my wife and youngest son thought it would be neat if all five of us jumped at the same time while a stranger nearby took our picture, mid air style.
So we handed our camera to the stranger, took our spots arranging ourselves from shortest to tallest and prepared to leap.

My two older sons were experienced swimmers.  They had been members of their school's swim team for many years and knew how to dive and such.
So when the time came, not wanting to be "outdone", I struck a strong diving pose while my youngest and my wife did the whole cannonball fashion.
We plunged into the water as the stranger successfully took our picture and I remember surfacing and seeing the rest of my family nearby, thankful that no one had impacted any unseen danger.
We splashed and laughed and decided that one of us had to climb out of the water to retrieve our camera and since no one volunteered, I decided I would be the one to exit the water first.
There were significant waves that day and I took a lungful of breath and pointed my arms for the big push that would take me back towards the pier.  But as I dipped below the water, a current must have propelled me more forward, or sideways, than I had expected to be.
My arm muscles rushed me forwards and I must've hit my head against something because my world suddenly went dark.

My memory of what happened next is still fuzzy.  I think I believed I was sleeping until I was awakened by an incredibly bright light.
As if I were lying on a gurney and someone had pushed me swiftly, from the center of the deepest, darkest cave, to the brightest noon day sun.
So bright it was, that through my eyelids I recoiled although after a second, I recovered as if I were somehow familiar with the intensity.

I found myself being looked at by the large face of my grandpa and as I recognized him, he placed his very large hands under my armpits and swung me in a circle, much as he did when I was a child.
I honestly thought I was dreaming, so lucid was this feeling.  My grandfather had died when I was only four or five years old but before he left, I was quite close to him.
When I saw him again, it seemed we had picked up right where we had left off.  I was happy, content.