How Quickly the Grass Grows Beneath the Swings

We have a saying here at the Manske household. That saying is, “two of the happiest events in our lives were when our children were potty trained and when they learned to pump the swing themselves.”  As a mom of 5, I have changed more diapers than I care to number. I’ve also spent countless hours at the swing set, pushing, giving underdogs, and singing songs. Sometimes I thought my arms might fall off from pushing a swing for hours at a time. 

When we moved into our home, we were expecting our 4^th child. While in the purchasing process of our home we came to the property for the inspection and a very pregnant me took our three girls outside to play while my husband accompanied the inspector. As we explored the yard, I realized that the swing set had 5 swings. Little did I know then, that we would fill all 5 swings.

In the past 17 years, we’ve spent a lot of time at that swing set. I’ve pushed little ones in the baby swing, pushed toddlers on the “big kid swing”, and heard “watch this” a few thousand times as one of them jumped off the swing in midair. We’ve caught fireflies out by the swings on summer nights. It has also been “gool” for games of tag, and the meeting place for games of “gray wolf” after dark. We’ve given it a workout over the years. There was always a path beaten to the swings from the patio door to the edge of the property. Grass was absent from under the swings and each swing had a little valley underneath where the dirt was worn away by little feet.

From my kitchen window, I barely noticed the constant creek of the swings as they went back and forth on summer days. It was as natural a sound as the birds chirping. As summer turned to autumn, the creek of the swings was interrupted by squeals of delight as  they jumped into mounds of leaves raked in huge piles in front of their swings. Even in winter, they ventured out to the swings, bundled up so that they could barely move. We’ve given those swings a workout over the years.

I don’t even really remember when I stopped hearing the creak of the swings. Occasionally I would glace at them from the kitchen window and watch them swayed back and forth by the wind. They moved from the forefront to the background as we took graduation photos.  With diploma in hand, the future was bright ahead and the swing set faded into the past.

This past spring as I looked out my window I suddenly realized something was very different. There was grass beneath the swing set. The realization of this is a moment I will never forget.  A thousand memories flooded my mind.  Looking at the abandoned swing set, my heart felt heavy. I realized that a season in my life had ended.  In the weeks to come, as spring rains fell on the swing set, I found myself lost in thought and mourning the passing of a season of my life.

One morning this summer, I was holding my grandson, Noah, who just turned 1. We were at the patio door looking out at the swing set. Suddenly I felt a paradigm shift. I was struck by the realization that the end of one season always marks the beginning of another. So, I opened the door, took Noah by the hand, and we made our way out to the swing set. 

Here I am, 53 years old and still learning. Learning to embrace my current season of life and when it ends, to welcome the next season. Motherhood has taught me many lessons over the past 27 years. One of the most poignant being, how quickly the grass grows beneath the swing set. 

Grow and thrive in whatever season of life you’re in, dear friends!

Leslie