The Swing of Life

My first memory is of it. When I turned three on that bright summer day, my Dad put up a swing set in the back yard. The crimson red poles that supported its structure flashed in stark contrast to the lush, green grass it rested on. He lifted me up into the black seat and I swing for the first time of my life. While I was being pushed, I saw the bright sun in the sky, shining down on me and bringing a feeling of warmth and comfort to me. The sun was right above me, and in that moment, I thought it would stay there forever. That my dad would never stop pushing me, that the sun would never cease to shine, that the poles would stay shiny red forever, that the chains would never rust. In that moment, I didn’t understand the concept of time, and it held no power over me. I was happy, not worried. Yet, this would soon change, as time, through ageing, changes a human’s view on itself

I was twelve, a pre-adolescent. I was laying down next to my swing, the day was pretty warm and I was wearing a sleeveless shirt. The sun emerged from behind a puffy white cloud and I looked away from its blinding glare. This action caused me to look at my armpit. With a choke of surprise, I saw a little black thing sitting on top of my armpit. No, not a bug, and armpit hair. Suddenly, a song of a bird hits my ears. I turn to see a blue jay sitting atop my swing set. With all the grace that it was created with, it s*** all over the top of the swing set and flew away. My swing set was now dirty.

I was sixteen, I was laying on my back by my swing again. This time, instead of looking at the sun, it was a cloudy day anyway, I was looking at the face of my teenage crush, Emma. We suddenly looked into each other’s eyes. Before I knew it, we were mashing our faces together in a rather odd attempt to either show affection or strengthen our immune systems. I heard a noise. No not her sighs of pleasure, they were nonexistent, that was a very bad kiss, Anyhow, that day, one of the four red supporting legs of the swing set sank deeply into the ground. My swing set was now off level

My first beer. My second beer. My third. You get the point. Anyway, my friends and I thought that it would be a great idea to etch some genitals into the supporting bars of my swing set. We also spilled some vodka in the grass. My swing set now smelled like alcohol and had penises drawn on it with some swear words on them, the grass under it was also dying.

I accepted my first job sitting on that swing set. I was excited for that call, I was moving forward with my life. It was a very dark and stormy day. When I hung up, the chains fell off. The swing part of my swing set was on the ground, broken and useless. My swing set no longer functioned.

I said yes next to that swing set. Emma and I were privately married in my backyard on a whim. She was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. We loved each other. My swing set was completely knocked over that night while we were procreating. My swing set was now in pieces.

Ten months later, our son was born. He was and still is my perfect pride and joy. It was raining heavily when Emma and I packed for the move. I had to move away from my home and my swing set to better accommodate my family. My swing set was abandoned.

Three Years later, I put up my son’s swing set. It was red and sparkling. He thinks that it will stay that way, I know better.