I remember going to the store to choose it. We purchased a floor model during the end-of-season clearance because it was significantly less expensive than it would have been otherwise.
The day it was delivered, my son, then just two years old, went outside to play, even in the misty November weather.
Over the years we'd swing (I think that's how he learned to count), have lunch in the clubhouse, and look through the telescope. Years ago my mother-in-law, who was in her eighties, climbed up the ladder and slid down the slide. We have video proof!
It's a good redwood swing set that needs a little TLC. With a good power washing, some bolt-tightening, and a fresh coat of stain, it'll be good as new.
Now it's time to say Goodbye, and it's bittersweet. We're giving it to a family we know, and their little girl will now have the same kind of fun that we did. That's where the comfort lies. I can't help but smile when I think of another child enjoying the swings, the clubhouse, the slide.
This morning my son and I went outside. We swung on the swings, we climbed into the clubhouse, we slid down the slide. (The grass was wet, and when I hit the bottom of the slide I landed on the ground!) We talked about the memories. We decided not to take pictures. It was sweet and happy and sad, all mixed together.
But you know what?
While we were outside, we threw around the Frisbee. (Also fun in the wet grass, by the way. A few times I was almost diving for the Frisbee when I didn't intend to.) The swing set isn't the only source of fun. We can do lots of other things. So although moving forward is bittersweet, it's a good thing. I guess it's one of those tender moments that are part of kids growing up. We're moving on, making space for the next generation of little ones, and finding our new place.
photo credit: sean dreilinger via photopin cc