73. Jillian
SEVENTY-THREE
Jillian
I send Elliott a message.
Jillian: I’m ready to talk. Can you meet here?
I follow the message with a ping for our location.
Elliott: Leaving right now.
I walk back to the swings and sit on one, pushing myself slowly at first, my feet still dragging on wood chips. Then I grasp the chains and step back until I’m on tiptoes, pick up my feet, and let go. I stretch my legs in front of me, keeping the up momentum, and pull them back to gain speed and go higher and higher. My hair streams behind me with the forward movement and then covers my face as I reverse. I tilt my head back, taking in the blue sky, the passing fluffy clouds, a lonely hawk riding the winds, wings spread open, trusting its ability to fly without having to flap its wings .
So many memories come back to me. I don’t try to stop them. Allow myself to feel without fear of the pain they may bring with them. The rush of wind in my ears like the theme song for all the things I thought forgotten. Images play in my mind’s eye in vivid colors. Emotions come to the surface. Snippets of conversation. Candid moments. Friendship and trust building, one day at a time. Becoming stronger with each passing year. Us against the world. I smile and laugh through my tears. I don’t let go to wipe them.
Jamie watches me with wide eyes. Me, the one always telling him to be careful, don’t go too fast or too high. Me, the one doing all the things I told him not to do. It’s freeing and exhilarating.
I swing back and forth. One moment in the past and the next in the future. The allegory is not lost on me. Another memory unlocked. CJ and me on this very swing set. We had to be nine or ten. Him telling me to let go, to jump. And me holding on to the chains, too scared to leap when he did.
I’m not scared now.
“Jamie, look at me!”
And then I jump.