Empty Swing Set

The swing set creaks in the wind,
a rusty lullaby I know by heart.
It used to be a symphony of shrieks and laughter,
a blur of tiny legs pumping, higher, higher.

Now, it just hangs there,
empty.

Like a promise whispered and slowly forgotten,
replaced by new adventures, new horizons.
They don't need me to push them anymore,
no more scraped knees needing a Band-Aid kiss,
no more monsters under the bed to chase away.

They built their own forts now,
with friends whose names I barely know,
plotting adventures in realms beyond my reach.
And I watch from the kitchen window,
stirring lukewarm coffee,
a ghost in their vibrant lives.

It’s not sadness, not exactly.
More like a dull ache, a phantom limb,
where their small hands used to fit perfectly in mine.

Remember the mud pies they'd proudly present?
Or the whispered secrets shared in the darkness?
The endless questions, the relentless energy?

Those days are a faded photograph,
warm and comforting, yet undeniably past.

I knew this was coming,
this slow, inevitable unraveling of childhood.
But knowing doesn’t make it easier,
doesn’t fill the silence left by their absence.

The house is cleaner now,
quieter.
But the quiet screams louder than any tantrum ever did.

I walk out to the yard,
push the swing gently.
It moves back and forth,
a lonely dance in the afternoon sun.

Maybe someday,
grandchildren will fill these swings again,
bringing with them the chaos and the joy.
Maybe someday,
I’ll be the one telling stories of scraped knees and monsters,
the one offering Band-Aid kisses and endless patience.

But for now,
there's just the creaking swing set,
a reminder of what was,
and a hesitant hope for what will be.
The sunset paints the sky in hues of orange and purple,
a beautiful, melancholic masterpiece.
And I stand here,
a silent observer,
letting the beauty and the sadness wash over me,
grateful for the memories,
and bracing myself for the unknown.
The wind picks up, rustling the leaves.
The swing set creaks again, a little louder this time.
It’s a song of letting go, a song of love,
a song of life.
And I listen, letting it soothe my soul,
knowing that even in the emptiness,
there is a strange and quiet beauty.