***I don’t remember, but I think I originally wrote this for The Blue Doodle right after we moved here from Oklahoma… so back in September or October of 2006
Isn’t it strange how as we get older we forget about the things we enjoyed when we were young? I took my kids to the park today, and I don’t usually do that; I am a bad mother. I have little patience with my own children (the oldest really), and we don’t spend a lot of time doing things we really SHOULD be doing. My son was pouty because dad wouldn’t let sister go down the slide with him, so I decided it might be fun to swing. He got in his swing and I in mine, and I immediately took off.
Who can go higher? Of course I can, and I am extremely competitive so the challenge is on. The higher I got the more exhilarated I became. The wind in my hair and the jump in my stomach as my swing traveled down. The height I climbed and the speeding ground below. Why did I give this up? At what point in my life did this become a childish activity?
Those few moments on that swing freed me of all worries. As I flew through the air, guided only by my imagination, my eyes were closed and all the world’s ailments where bandaged. What else am I missing out on?
I have spent so much time viewing things from an adult perspective, that I forgot what it is like to see things as a child; to see the beauty in a rainbow, and the charm in making wishes. To roll down a hill, not worrying what I will be covered with and how sick it can make me… but rolling for the roll – the tingles in my stomach and that dizzy feeling when I stand to my feet.
Just maybe this is what is wrong with me. This is why I feel my life is lacking. A few moments as a child and all my worries will disappear. I don’t know. I can tell you this… if I move again, I am getting a swing set.