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The Swing.

Melissa Beene Ford/ Fiction


It was their favorite spot to sit, that creaky old swing that had long ago become a rusty relic from days gone by. Most evenings they sat side by side on that swing, THEIR swing, and watched leaves fall and basked in the peace that enveloped the lake. He kept his eyes on the movements of the fish; she kept her eyes on him. After decades of better and worse, richer and poorer, he was still the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The swing had been their first big purchase together back in the early days of counting pennies and clipping coupons in their first apartment, and hours innumerable had been spent in the swing together hatching big dreams, plotting weekend adventures, laughing at the children (long since grown), and snoozing on Sunday afternoons after church. The swing was rarely the spot for arguing — though it had been known to happen occasionally, back in the early days — but mostly, the swing was peace and comfort and love and home, and the petty troubles of those early days were long forgotten as only the happy memories remained.

The old couple sat and held hands, as was their tradition — his hands now calloused and gnarled; hers spotted and frail. She pondered the rings they had exchanged so many years before, and it occurred to her that her beloved gold ring must be around a hundred years old by now; it had been his grandmother’s. His thin sterling silver band was worn smooth after so many decades, the inscription on the inside — Joel 2:25 — now indiscernible to the untrained eye. Joel 2:25: I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten…

There was no better verse to sum up all that he was to her. She vaguely remembered the misery that her life had been before she met him, and thanked God again, as she had so many thousands of times before, for bringing him to her. He was truly God’s repayment for the years wasted; a blessing far more abundant than she ever could have asked for or imagined. She had had two small children when they met; he had had none… Until her two little girls had stolen his heart and become his. He raised them as his own; he was everything he never had to be to two little girls who needed him more than they knew, and it made the old couple’s hearts swell with pride to think of how the children had turned out exactly how they had hoped.

Their oldest, Charlotte, kind and introverted, still ran the veterinary practice she had built many years before; lively and fun Abigail had found her calling teaching kindergarten, and thrived on investing her life in the small children she taught.

And then there was Isaac, their surprise blessing who had come along unexpectedly, long after it made sense to have another baby, and, well… it was hard to keep up with Isaac. He had called the day before from Bali. Or was it Thailand? He had been a constant source of amusement and delight for the old couple as if he was destined to live up to his name, Isaac, meaning… laughter.

Laughter. It was what they had done best. As she thought back over the decades spent with this man by her side, she knew that it hadn’t all been perfect by any means; there had been better and worse, richer and poorer, at times a little too much of the ‘poorer’ and not enough of the ‘richer’ to suit them. There had been tumultuous years of testing, as happens in every family, but was the laughter that had made life so sweet and the difficult times forgettable. Through it all, he had never stopped making her laugh.

She squeezed his hand, sighed contentedly, and basked in the peace that enveloped the lake.

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Comments

  1. MTaylor says

    January 20, 2012 at 12:06 am

    That's so perfect, I don't want to say any extra words and spoil it! I LOVE that couple!

    Reply
  2. Anonymous says

    January 20, 2012 at 2:26 am

    Loved this. How beautiful.<br />~melie

    Reply
  3. Marlager says

    January 20, 2012 at 2:31 am

    SO Beautiful!

    Reply
  4. Marlager says

    January 20, 2012 at 2:32 am

    SO very Beautiful! (tears)

    Reply
  5. Anonymous says

    January 21, 2012 at 2:35 am

    Are you pregnant???? 🙂

    Reply
    • Melissa from the Blue House says

      January 21, 2012 at 2:49 am

      Nope. 🙂

      Reply
  6. Anonymous says

    January 21, 2012 at 4:57 am

    I think this is a very beautiful story! That couple sounds like they love each other very much! How wonderful…….

    Reply
  7. Sharon - coping with a loss says

    January 23, 2012 at 9:47 pm

    We have never had a swing to sit in together, but your story reminded me of the many times we have swung together in a hammock – the best way to go in the tropics. Loved the story.<br /><br />Thanks for your visit and comment at my blog today!

    Reply

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
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Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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