there is something magical about watching my child play in my childhood backyard, swing from the same monkeybars i learned to swing on, play in the leaves dropped from the same helicopter tree i sat under more times than i can count...
i walked around the side of dad's house saturday afternoon hand-in-hand with her...we noted what was different about the yard, the house, from when i was her age and i told her stories about playing in various places throughout that very yard and the one next door. then, i watched her climb up the same ladder i have climbed countless times and reach easily for the first rung of the metal monkeybars i remember climbing on over and over again...sitting on top with friends, sharing stories and hanging upside down until the blood rushed to our heads and we had to turn right side up. what i also remembered when i watched her there was the excitement i felt when mom and dad pulled into the backyard with the little silver pick up and unpacked what would become a childhood staple...a swingset that transformed into many things - a house, a fort, a castle, an escape route when being chased and a place of secrets and refuge for us and our friends. that swingset survived our fire, sitting idle with no use for years...waiting for the time when children - our children - would find their way to its now skeletal frame. all that is left is a rusty ladder, the eight or so rungs across and the empty frame that used to hold two swings, a set of rings and a trapeze bar - all designed to keep us busy and teach us how to fearlessly soar...both were accomplished successfully.
tonight, in our old neighborhood with friends we've had her entire life, i sat in another backyard and watched her and a small troupe of actors perform a two act skit for an eager audience of parents in lawnchairs. i was split...watching her and her friends proudly show off, thinking she's growing up way too quickly...and thinking back to a time when it was me, my sisters and the neighbor boy putting on skits of our own each 4th of july for the neighborhood picnic. i was happy she was able to have this experience...sad that because we don't live in a neighborhood she can't be a part of it more often...and longing for a day when we can once again share in this very simple, yet to me, fundamental part of life.
there is something to be said for "belonging". it doesn't really matter where or to what. it's just the idea of feeling a part of something. with it comes pros and cons...you know, the neighbor who means well when trying to set you up with a "high strung, yet perfect for you" guy...remind me again why when asked "are you seeing anyone right now?" i don't automatically respond with "yes"??? you'd think i'd learn. i digress. but, i love sitting in a driveway with friends while the kids run around learning the simple joys of life in ways you can't on an ipod or xbox. i love knowing that if you need them, there are people around, whether it's to help shovel your drive or watch the kids in a pinch...you know, the little ways we take care of each other, or as i call it, the "it takes a village" theory. maybe it's the small-town girl in me...maybe it's because i currently reside in an apartment and while it's home in many ways, i can't help but miss being in a house on a street with a mailbox, a trash day and sometimes nosy yet typically well-meaning neighbors. i think, what i'm dancing around, what i'm trying hard not to say...is that, to me...that life, that world, also represents a normal family and that may be where the twinge of sadness came from tonight. see...my friend, cathy and i were the only people there needing one seat...the other three families required two seats. i was happy she was, and has been on many occasions, my "plus one" tonight (as silly as that sounds for this type of event, but you get the idea)...there is a simplicity that comes with this little life of mine...yet, i can't help but miss the idea of someone next to me who's hand would fit around mine and i know she feels similarly.
but, as i walked charlie when we got home, i was filled with so much more than that. while there are things in my life that aren't perfect, there are so many more things to be thankful for and cherish. i. am. blessed. three little words that i felt over and over again this weekend as i held my little girl...as i watched her play...as i sat next to her in church, singing and praying with her hand in mine. i. am. blessed.
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