My fingers caress the peeling layers of Paint that crust the grainy, rusty poles, interlinking the wet earth with the promise of a steep trip down the faded, red-and-yellow, striped coiling slide. My grip firms, and I haul myself up the ladder.

The purest, tenderest petals of warmth seem to descend softly over me, as my legs journey upwards. It feels like I am plummeting back in time, to those evenings, when the poles I gripped so unsteadily were repeatedly bathed in my sweat and grime. As we crashed into one another, at the bottom of the curling ride, laughter obscuring our senses. And stood up, scrambling up those rungs again… The delicate, torn, strands of once forgotten Memories seemed to be rejoining together to paint those lovely pictures back into my mind.

Yet, it feels strange to reconnect with the past that I have long distanced myself from. The sacred remains of those dear years, long lost, in the once blossoming garden of childlike innocence – they fuel my solace from the now withering grove, streaming with torrents of sleepless worry  and the steady prick of heartwrenching pain that darken the days before me.

Now at the heights of the slide, I gaze down the muddy spiral, lost in thought – those days, filled with imaginary pillars that held up our bright dreams and fantasies, slipped away, unappreciated. Now, the mere shadow of those them feels like the entrance to a delightful, sunlit, paradise…but the gates have long been sealed.

The golden rays of sunshine lighting up the park, spur in me, an irrepressible desire to revisit those carefree, cheerful times… I feel nostalgia, thick and constricting, trickle through me.

As I whoosh down the slide, gleefully, like a ten-year-old, however, I began to grasp that little tinge of hope that accompanies sorrow like a spark amidst the darkness. Maybe the path ahead isn’t as dreadful as it appears. After all, another ten years down the line, I might yearn fiercely to stand where I am now…

I alight from the slide, dusting my clothes. The stretch of these days constituting the present – I should appreciate them while I can…©

-M