The Swing Set

“Higher daddy! I want to go higher!”

I couldn’t help but smile and try to — safely — grant her wish. Sammie (only her grandpa called her Samantha) has always loved to swing in the backyard. Her first word may have been “momma,” but it just as easily could have been “swing.”

Today is no different. The sun is shining down on us from a sky that is as blue as it has ever been as Sammie moves back and forth. My job, my one-and-only job, is to push — to make sure feet never come close to touching the ground. It is exhausting work, but every smile, laugh, and occasional joyous scream rejuvenates me. Just like her, I could do this all day.

You’d think that a six-year-old girl — a seasoned professional of the swing set circuit — would’ve figured out how to create momentum by pumping her legs back and forth. After all, it’s really not that hard to learn. The fact of the matter is, if she did, she could go as high as she wanted for as long as her heart desired.

If I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure I’m the reason she hasn’t done that yet. Not because she isn’t able to, but because she’s worried about my feelings. You see, she’s not the only person smiling from ear to ear while swinging. Call these moments little if you want, but they mean everything to me.

Sammie has been my heartbeat since she came into the world. Her becoming part of my life made it better. I fell in love with her the second she was “officially” born — and she has been my everything since that amazing day. I knew then why I was put on the planet. Everything from that moment on made complete sense.

I made an effort to be there for every significant event of her life as she grew older. Her first words, first steps, potty training — even the first time she fell and skinned her knee. In fact, it was me who pushed her the first time she rode the swing.

We’ve been inseparable — best friends since the very beginning.

“Faster, daddy! I’m starting to slow down!”

I can’t help but grin. It feels good to be needed.

People say that she’s a “daddy’s girl.” While that may be right, I don’t think it comes close to telling the whole story. A better way to put it would be to say that I’m a “daughter’s dad.” There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do to make that little girl happy. Not a single thing.

I love her so much.

Just as I returned to my role as “pusher,” my wife called out from the back door of the house, “Tom, are you out here? Please come inside.”

That was kind of strange. I don’t remember my wife ever yelling from the house. She knew where we were and usually came outside to find us. Maybe she’s worried that the pull of a swing set on a beautiful day would be too much to overcome.

As I looked toward the house for further instructions, Sammie asked if we could come back out later.

I nodded. “Of course, we can. We can stay out as long as you like.”

She smiled that smile that has always made my heart melt, “Ok, daddy, one more big push, and we can go in.”

I put my hands on her lower back and gave her one final big push. My momentum forces me to the ground. I quickly looked up to see an empty swing moving back and forth.

I’m immediately overcome with fear. I spring up and begin yelling for my little girl.

“Sammie? Sammie? Where are you, honey?” After a moment of silence, I yell again, “Sammie, stop messing around. It’s time to go inside.”

I frantically pace around the yard, looking for Samantha. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. The gate is closed, and the fence is way too high for her to climb.

Samantha must have run inside to mommy! I sprint across the yard, running faster than I have in years, and burst through the back door. My wife is standing in front of me when I enter our house.

“Did Sammie come inside? I can’t find her anywhere?”

My wife stood there in stunned silence as tears began to stream down her face.

“Tom, Samantha is gone.”

I started freaking out, “What are you talking about? I know she’s gone! We have to find her.”

My wife walked across the room and hugged me as tightly as I have ever been hugged. “No Tom, Sammie is gone. She was killed in a car accident a little over two years ago.” She continued. “You were with her. It’s a miracle that I didn’t lose you too.”

I pushed her away. “That’s crazy! We’ve been together at the swing set almost every day.”

My wife dropped to her knees in front of me, “Lift your shirt, Tom.”

I grabbed my shirt and looked at her. Had she lost her mind? We were wasting time that could be used to find our little girl.

She nodded, and I did what she asked. A large wound went from my stomach across my chest and stopped near my shoulder blade.

“You nearly died, Tom. You nearly died.”

My little girl is gone? It can’t be true. I looked directly at my wife, staring into her soul.

“If Sammie is dead, then who have I been pushing on the swing in our backyard?”

“No one Tom,” My wife wiped the tears away from her eyes and lifted herself off of the floor. “Every morning since you came home from the hospital, you’ve walked outside and stared at the swing set for hours.”

I stood there in stunned silence as the memories of that terrible moment came rushing back to me.

“I couldn’t save her.”

My wife burst into tears and ran to comfort me. “It’s not your fault Tom. It’s not your fault.”

I looked at my wife. “I miss her, honey.”

“Me too, Tom. Every second of every day.”

While in a long embrace, my wife and I both noticed a small barn owl sitting outside of our window. It stood in place for no more than a couple of seconds before flying away.

I walked to the window and looked in the direction it flew, “Goodbye, Sammie. Daddy loves you and will never forget you.”

Then I slumped to the floor and cried.