At recess I would swing the entire time. I was shy and quiet--never really got into the loud crowd in elementary school.
The swings were the perfect playground toy for me.
I would kick my legs harder and harder until I was so high that I felt like I was flying.
For those few moments I really, truly was.
When it was summer vacation I would swing all day every day.
My sister and I would sing the theme song to The Neverending Story.
We would sing it until we we were hoarse.
We would sing it until we were swinging so high there was nothing else for us to do but to be lost in that moment.
For those summer days we were flying.
This past Saturday we went to the park.
Remember how I got to choose something fun to do?
I chose lots of fun things for us and my favorite fun thing that we did was going to the park.
I had my husband.
I had my daughter.
I had my step-daughter.
Life was perfect.
Nobody else was at the park.
Nobody but us.
The temperature was warm, but not too warm.
There was a slight breeze that made for a perfect afternoon of family time.
I sat down in a swing and intended to just swing back and forth with my toes dragging beneath me.
I sat down in a swing and had no idea about the flood of memories, happy memories, that would flood my head.
As I started swinging higher and higher I looked over to my sweet, sweet Isabella.
She was swinging, too.
And while I watched her swing I had a thought come to me.
There we both were, making new memories.
Memories that would never leave my head.
Because at that moment, we were both flying.
And flying our journey of life together.
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