Remember

We are old now. Walking to the park is more of a shuffle than a walk. Mary and I always used to race to the park, running, yelling, screaming and dancing all the way. Those were the days. Days when we were shock proof, dust proof and anti-magnetic. We were invincible, and were up to any challenge. Her mom used to say she wondered how so much energy could be trapped in such small bodies.

I remember getting the swing going so high. I would pump my arms and legs and get to where my head was even with the crossbar of the swing as I went back and forth. I remember being able to jump out of the swing and land eight or ten feet away. Landing on my feet, and running to the next set of swings just to do it again. Now, I sit gently on the seat, and push slightly to make the swing move back and forth. Not too much as I don't want to get motion sickness again.

Mary is in her favorite flower dress. In the old days she was in jeans or shorts just like all the other kids. Her mom always said she was a tomboy, and would rather play with trucks and guns than dolls. She was like the rest of us, playing without a care in the world. We always had skinned knees, were in dusty jeans, t shirt and maybe a baseball cap. All of us shared a soda or candy bar. Those were the days.

Now, Mary and I sit here on the swings, looking out a crossed the park at the jungle gym, the sand box and that tall elm tree that we all used to climb. I can see the metal horse mounted on a spring now painted a dark blue. Never did see a blue horse, but I remember that horse was fun to ride. I remember rocking the horse back and forth, trying to make the hoofs hit the ground. Always got tired before that happened, and would move on to another part of the park.

Sitting here thinking of the good old days. Listening to the swing creak as I push with my feet, feeling the warm sun on us. Feeling the swing go slowly backwards and forward. Closing my eyes, remembering all those fun days now past.

I reach out and take Mary's hand. We slowly swing back and forth in unison. I look at Mary, she is still a beautiful gal. I think the wrinkles, gray hair and glasses add to her beauty. She squeezes my hand and says:

"It's time to go, I can smell the bacon cooking. You know the home don't like to drag out breakfast."

Slowly, we shuffle down the curving sidewalk back towards the Parkside Senior Citizens Retirement Center. Going slowly, hand in hand, the memories of our youth still in my mind.