Free

With hair streaming back into the wind like ribbons unfurling, I am free. My legs moving rhythmically, slicing into the night, stretch longer before me like I am growing. I tip backwards until my stomach flip flops and a pleasant buzzing fills my head. All my responsibilities and expectations slide away and there is just me.

It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a moment like this. As a teenager we would sneak into parks after dark jonsing for a good swing. I would be high in the air, my chains slack and then SNAP! as I descended into the arc. My companion would be more reserved, swaying slowly back and forth with the bright red cherry end of a cigarette glowing.

Once upon a time when there was only myself, The Hubster, and a little black dog named Jake we would walk to the park at 4 am when The Hubster would come home from his graveyard shift. The swings there were not particularly good for adults. The ear splitting groaning sound that would emit attracted the unwanted attention of the local cops and we would crouch in the tube slide, clinging to one another while the little dog scratched ferociously trying to get a grip on the slick plastic. Since then, it is a rare thing that I have more than a brief moment to revel in the feeling of flying. Flying is in my blood, my father was a pilot. This weekend marked the beginning of a new phase of flying for me – in my own backyard.

A few years ago my husband was frantically working any side job he could pull to pay for our Cobra health coverage – Cobra ain’t cheap. One of his side gigs involved a local charter school. He and a few buddies took apart the playground and moved it to the school’s new digs. They decided not to bring the old swing set and it naturally fell into our possession. At the time we were living in a townhouse, no yard to call our own and passed it on to some friends. These friends are leaving, returning to whence they came and in turn have returned the swing set to whence it came. We now have a yard (almost 1/4 of an acre) and the Hubster spent the weekend fixing up the swing set. It’s now firmly ensconced in my backyard, 3 bench swings and a double boat swing for the itty bitty set. One of the swings is just high enough for me. The whole thing is FIRMLY concreted into the ground so I can swing as high as I want without fear of tipping the whole set-up over. I am please, The Hubster is pleased and the kiddos seem pleased.