A Little Blue Swing



Between the ice, the wind and the snow, this past winter was a harsh one. Not only on us humans, but on the trees, roads, homes, barns, and whatever else was outside at the mercy of the elements all winter long. Some days when I'd look out the window, I was unable to see familiar sights, like the old barn out back and a little blue swing approaching its 12th summer hanging from a maple tree, providing lots of fun and lots of memories involving two little children who grew up playing around or near or in that plastic swing hung from a sturdy branch when the oldest, now twelve (in the bottom picture) was but a toddler.

A few weeks ago, when early signs of spring were becoming noticeable, I went out back to check the garden and take a good look around. That look around included the maple tree holding on to the little blue swing. I discovered the twine rope attached to the swing, wrapped around a branch of the maple tree was severely frayed. I noticed that branch holding on to the swing was damaged from both the winter's harshness and the endless hours over the years of holding those two little ones safely in place as they went soaring through the air as leaves fell, as snow swirled, as giggles and laughter and attempts to touch the leaves with their feet or pull leaves from branches with their dimpled hands brought more laughter-uncontrollable, precious, innocent laughter.

Standing there that day in early spring, I realized it was time to take that treasured blue swing down. With those two little ones now almost ten and thirteen, it was simply-time. That little blue swing deserved to come in out of the cold. It had entertained and created memories and played a role in the early lives of two toddlers who'd squeal for all to hear, "Push me higher. I want to touch the leaves!"

And that is what they did, over and over again, their laughter singing with the breeze.


Comments

  1. AnonymousApril 23, 2023 at 7:18 AM

    Creating memories with grandchildren is, to me, the epitome of memory making. I will be, God willing, be making more with my youngest two (10 & 13) next week in Niagara Falls. They have the identical swing in their backyard, hanging from a maple tree. They’ve outgrown the days of grandpa pushing them; higher grandpa, higher. Now I practice soccer with Ethan and listen to stories that Sophia has written and, by the way, has received awards and accolades for in school. Wow, another writer in the LaRock family; who knew. Maybe you’ll get to meet her one day. “Til then, I’ll introduce her to you via the Reindeer Keeper.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Barbara Briggs WardApril 23, 2023 at 8:52 PM

      Happy Memory Making next week! As you wrote, the epitome of memory making with a blue swing having a role. I would love to meet Sophia-quite an accomplished young writer. Thanks for the comment.

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