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The swing.

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1 The swing. on Mon Aug 30, 2010 10:36 pm

bullfrog

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THE SWING




Somewhere back in time, there was a building. Not a strong building, just one of those prefabricated aluminum storage sheds that aren’t built to last. But, inside of that building was the swing. A hurricane collapsed a huge tree on the building destroying all of it’s contents. But still, the memory of the swing lives on.
You see, even though it was simple swing, roughly built out of scar lumber and rope with a few screws and hope holding it together, that swing meant a lot. Long gone now except in my memory, it was the true measure of a father’s love.
I can sympathies with the modern day father, he has a lot on his plate. He is multitasking, planning for college for his kids. His hours of work wear long, and his time at home grows short. So, if his kid wants a swing, he goes to Walmart and buys one for them.
But I remember a kinder, gentler yet crueler age. A time when a swing was far beyond our budget. The wolf was always scratching at the door. The food and bills alone were more than I was making. A swing was beyond our reach. Still, I had a young son. So, to the scrap piles I went where they were building homes. There were pieces of good lumber there that they were going to burn. I took them home.
I sawed them into strips of even length and width with a hand saw. I drilled the holes with a hand drill, being really careful to try to get the holes straight, a drill press was beyond my dreams. I screwed the pieces together and then sanded it all smooth so there were no splinters Rope was cheap, but still I sweated every knot. My child would be swinging from this thing that I made. Would it hold together?
I finally put him in it and swung the gate shut. Then I pushed him and he began to swing. Higher and higher, his smile was immeasurable. It made we wonder as I thought back, have we lost something really important along the way? The measure of love of a father cannot really be weighed against another who simply buys a swing at Walmart.
But, it took a hurricane to destroy that simple, immeasurable measure of love and it still didn’t kill it. That swing will live forever in our hearts. Just as that swing, we all will someday return to the earth. But it is what lives in our heart that lasts beyond the ages


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2 Re: The swing. on Tue Aug 31, 2010 1:02 pm

jw

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A nice heartwarming story and it is so special when someone you love makes something w/ their own hands and hard work for you. My son's girl friend just made me a crocheted blanket that she spent working on for several months that I can use when I'm sitting on the couch at night to keep warm. She's a very special person to me and I love her lots


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3 Re: The swing. on Tue Aug 31, 2010 1:10 pm

rosebud

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That brings back memories for me too, Bullfrog. My Daddy worked at the shipyard. He brought home rope from some of the ships he worked on and made our swing. It was tied to the huge hackberry tree in the back yard. It was still there when my own children were born. They were able to use it too. When the house was sold back in the late 70s, the swing was still in that old tree.

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4 Re: The swing. on Tue Aug 31, 2010 7:32 pm

Esther


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Nice memory.


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