The Swing Set

Swing sets. Few things evoke such strong childhood memories in so many. I remember our swing set. It was on the side of our back yard. I remember many hours spent on that metal swing, going so high, the legs would come up out of the ground. I can still remember how it felt to lean back so my bare feet seemed to touch the clouds.

I knew when I became a mother, I wanted a swing set in my backyard. We moved into our home soon after Madison turned one, and the first thing I did was get a swing set. Not a fancy wooden one with three levels and a telephone. Just a regular metal one, like I had as a kid. That swing set did not disappoint. I spent hours upon hours pushing my Madison, first in a baby swing, then on her own big girl swing, and eventually watching as she and her friend Jeffrey played on the glider.

Peyton loved the swing. I remember pushing her over and over and over. We had a game we played. She would ask me what holiday was next. After I told her, she would say, "And then what, Mommy?" It went on until we got through the whole year. Rhett inherited the baby swing once he was old enough to join us. I look back now on those days as some of the happiest days of my life.

I was sad to leave that old metal swing set behind when we moved to a new house several years after we moved in. It held so many memories. So as soon as our new yard was ready, we put a new swing set in. Because we had three young children, we opted for a wooden one this time, with a fort and a slide as well. Our neighbors all had similar ones in their yards, and the kids spent many hours playing on the swings, riding bikes from yard to yard.

Hot summer afternoons. Cool autumn evenings. Sunny winter days. And dewy spring mornings. The swing set was a constant in our lives. As the years passed, the wooden swing sets slowly disappeared from our neighbors' yards. As kids grow, they sit empty. Then they are disassembled and disappear. I couldn't imagine taking ours down, even though the kids continued to grow. Fortunately, we were blessed with our sweet little Flynn, and the baby swing went back up again. And I began again. Pushing a little on a swing. Watching as she learns to swing herself. Watching my older kids swing with her, capturing moments of their childhoods once again.

Easter morning was one of the very first mornings it was nice enough to be outside. Flynn was the first one ready, and I was not surprised that she asked to swing. So swing she did. In her Easter dress and her brand new sandals. Dresses can be washed, sandals can be wiped. Moments like these pass so very quickly. Soon enough, those swings will be empty, moving only in the breeze. But not just yet.