Tonight, I look out my kitchen window and I see the sky and I have to be a part of it. I strip off my socks and leave my phone on the counter and walk out into the starlight.
It's always been this way, as long as I can remember. Whenever I feel stressed, or sad, or crazy, or just full of memories, I go out to my swings.
Mine, with the chains that are just right in my hands. And I pump my legs and look up at the wintery night sky and suddenly I'm flying towards that one bright star overhead.
So much has changed. Years have passed, and now I'm a nineteen year old woman (more woman than girl, anyway) in her college sweatshirt, with her thong hanging out the back of her jeans. There have been losses and loves and lots of laughter, but still, the swinging is the same.
I leave all anger and resentment and fear on the ground.
I take whatever is weighing on me up with me and I send it up and away.
It may not last forever, but whatever it is, it is at least a temporary reprieve.
When my dog, Brookie died, I was soon out on the swing.
And at college, when I got bogged down studying for finals, there I was, out on the new swings I found.
That's how I know I'm the same. That's how I know I'll always be a kid.
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