The Swing Set
The scent hit her first, tugging on heartstrings so forgotten that she’d thought they’d atrophied long ago. The crisp autumn night air mixed with the blood-like scent of iron and rust pulled her to the ancient swing set where, decades earlier, she spent her days soaring high enough to take her breath away.
Step by aching step, she neared the relic of her youth, memories rising to the surface, scenes of October days gone by filling her mind and bringing a wistful grin to her aged lips. The years seemed to fall away one by one as she approached the swing, her favorite swing, the swing she’d been sitting in when Johnny shyly bent and gave her their first kiss, both of them five years old. It was here, sitting on this very swing that Johnny gently asked for her hand in marriage, and it was here she came to shed her heart’s tears when she lost her Johnny to the war.
She eased herself onto the rough wooden seat, grasping the chains with both hands, slowly swaying back and forth. She inhaled deeply, her lungs filling with the bliss of memory, the goodness of nostalgia. Her eyelids fluttered and then closed, and behind them she saw bright golden sunshine, swirling brown and red leaves and she heard the ethereal laughter of children laughing, playing their chasing game through the tiny park.
“You’re It,” she softly sang out, head tilted and resting on the chain, her breathing slowing just a bit.
“Come and play, Bitty! Come and play with us!” the voices sang back. She longed to go with them but she was so tired, so worn down, so old.
“Come and play!” they called to her, and she knew she couldn’t. Her heart began to ache with the sadness and she felt her years beginning to pile back on her, beginning to crush her again. The laughter faded slowly, falling away from her as her smile faltered.
“Elizabeth. Bitty, honey, come on, now,” a new voice called her. This voice was soft and warm, deep and resonating, so kind, and so unbelievingly familiar.
She let the loving voice envelop her for just a second longer before opening her eyes, expecting her daydream to evaporate as she faced the reality of the park drenched in moonlight, but what she saw made her gasp.
There stood her Johnny, her first and only love, her husband and her light, lost so long ago and now in front of her very eyes smiling down on her with lips she hadn’t kissed in more years than she cared to remember. His hand was held out to her and she took it, noticing her hand had lost the ravages of age. Her liver spots, her wrinkles, even the thinness of the skin had been replaced with the bright glow and firmness of youth.
She rose to meet his embrace, and he held her with a love that flowed over her in velvet waves. Leading her away from the precious swing, she paused to take a final look back. She was only the slightest bit surprised to see the figure of an old woman sitting in her seat, a soft smile on her wrinkled face, eyes closed in a slumber that would never end.
Turning back to Johnny, she gazed up at him and lost herself in his smiling blue eyes. The couple walked through the park, unhurried, his arm around her while her head rested on his shoulder, and together they entered Eternity.
