There’s a little park on the other side of town; it’s a happy spot for me. When I was pregnant with Gabe, I cried a lot. :) I was pretty sick on top of being an emotional pregnant lady. Last year was a tough time for our family for many different reasons, but like one of my favorite songs says:
…like stones in the river, we are tossed & turned, shaped until the edges are gone…
I’d go to that park to contemplate the perplexities of life while my two innocent daughters explored the litter, graffiti, & train tracks. j/k – but still not too far from the truth.
We call it the Giraffe Park because it’s got this crazy graffiti-covered giraffe slide.
It’s one of the few parks that actually has grass, and despite a few hazards here & there, it’s relatively safe.
There’s a train that travels through it sometimes.
Something about it reminds me of my childhood. I’m not sure why, but whenever I’m at this park, I always think about a fish fry with homemade root beer at my Grandma McNair’s house in Moreland, Idaho. I always feel like I’m headed to a family gathering when I go to this park, and it brings a sweet smile to my face.
I hope Carlie will feel similar sweet feelings when she thinks about this little park we’ve visited almost every week for the past two years - the cool breeze that’d brush her rosy cheeks as I’d push her in her favorite swing for at least 20 minutes each time, the songs I’d sing to her, the laughs we’d share.
Though times weren’t always easy, I know she’ll remember being happy at this park.
…each day of our lives is a gift from the Giver, to smooth all the edges, like stones in the river…