write
Fueled by 3 cups of coffee and a dose of the Holy Spirit, I ran home to pick up my middle two sons and headed to the ballfield. Where else? :) What made this particular game day different was Noah decided to join us. He would sporadically attend his little brother’s games, but usually declined because he was tired, had homework, had to practice his instrument, needed a root canal. You know... Your basic 16 year-old excuses.
But this time he joined us. The weather was perfect, the team played great and won their game, and we had Zaxby’s to boot. All in all a good choice on his part, that is, until I told him I had some errands to run and wanted him to come with me.
Cue the eye rolls…
“Mom, I’m hot. I’m tired. I have to go home and study. I mean sleep. I mean clean my room. I mean do laundry…”
“Common, Noah. We won’t be that long. Only 3 ‘quick’ stops. I promise.”
Reluctantly he got in the car. I rolled the windows down and turned the music WAY up. I even let him pick the station. I love, that he loves classic rock!
The first stop was Party City, where we stood in a ridiculously long line waiting to get 2 dozen balloons blown up; and then waited in another ridiculous line waiting to pay. Okay, so the first stop wasn’t so ‘quick’. We loaded the balloons into my tiny backseat and drove to our drop off destination – church.
Walking up to the building, we passed a playground and Noah said he would wait for me there while I ran inside with the balloons. As I disappeared into the building, I grinned at the thought of my teenager playing on a preschool playground.
What I saw when I came back outside stopped me in my tracks. What I heard next, made my heart skip a beat.
“Mom, come push me.”
There was Noah, all 5'7" of him, sitting expectantly on a tire swing, his legs kicking like a toddler.
I was immediately thrown back 16 years in time.
From baby swings, to toddler swings, to tire swings… In that moment I recalled all the countless hours of time I spent pushing my babies on swings.
“Again, Momma, again.”
“Faster, Momma, faster.”
“Higher, Momma, higher.”
The squeals of delight that escaped effortlessly, the twinkling eyes staring back at me, made every second worth it. And now in the middle of a hot, tiring and long day, my son wanted to make time to swing, and asked me to push him again.
It’s a little different pushing a 16 year-old on a swing instead of a 6 year-old, but push him I did. Faster, higher, and in circles till he almost fell off. Laughing he said,
“Your turn, Mom. Hop on.”
I hesitated for just a moment thinking of all the things I still had left to do. The errands I still had to run. But when I saw the smile on his face and the little boy twinkle back in his eye, I quickly obliged.
Climbing into the tire swing, I knew I would now be at the mercy of my son. He began pushing me slowly at first, and then started twirling me in circles, faster, and faster, and faster!
With my arms and legs outstretched, I threw my head back, hair whipping in the wind and laughed uncontrollably as I squinted up at the spinning sky.
(Full confession however, once the swing stopped it took quite a bit longer than when I was a child, for my world to stop spinning. I may have even walked sideways back to my car. At least I didn’t throw up!)
For those few minutes when I was pushing my son, he was my little boy again, who needed me and leaned on me for everything. Not on his way to prom with his girlfriend. Not almost out the door to college and all grown up.
And for those few moments when he pushed me on the swing, I was a little girl again, carefree with no worries, no anxiety, no to-do lists or errands that needed to get done. Without realizing it, Noah had given me a simple, spontaneous and free gift.
When we got back to the car I hugged Noah tightly and said, “Thank you.”
He looked puzzled, and said “for what?”
“For making time to swing.”
I can’t recall the last time I swung on a swing. But I won’t forget this time.
Give yourself a free, spontaneous gift today... and take time to swing.
