Windows

Shortly after we moved into our house, we bought a swing set for our kids. It's similar to other wood swing sets you see today. Now, several years later, our kids have pretty much outgrown it.

On the farm, we had a swing set that was typical for those days. It was metal and had a glider, two hard plastic swings, and a lawn swing. I think it also had a short slide and a trapeze bar, but I don't remember for sure. The swing set sat on the east side of the house, just outside the laundry room window. Mother could keep an eye on us through the window while she was doing the six loads of laundry she did every day.

We used to like to swing so high that the poles of the swing set frame would leave the ground. But our favorite thing on the swing set was the lawn swing. It was basically two seats with backs that faced each other. It was attached to the top of the swing set with metal bars and their was a footrest that connected the two seats at the bottom. As one person swung forward, the other swung backward. If you think this sounds boring, well, it was. So to add some excitement, we liked to stand on the backs of the seats, facing each other and see how high we could make the lawn swing go. It never failed. Just as soon as we had it flying high and the swing set poles were leaving the ground, we'd hear a familiar rap on the laundry room window. As we looked up, there stood Mother, with a disappointed look on her face, shaking her index finger at us. As the obedient children that we were, we would immediately stop and start using the swing set properly. Until, of course, we noticed she was no longer looking out the window. Then the fun would start all over again. Until we'd hear the next rap on the window.

I never could figure out why she never let us have any fun. Then I grew up and had kids of my own.

On the other side of the house, facing west, was the kitchen window. When Eric and I would visit the farm with our kids, this window became a part of our leaving ritual at the end of the weekend. As Mother and Daddy got older, it became difficult for them to go outside to see us off when we would leave. So, we would say our good-byes inside the kitchen. There were hugs and 'I love yous' and 'see you next times' and bags of Grandma's cookies handed out. Then we'd get in our van, drive a few feet in the driveway and stop the van. Here we could see the kitchen window perfectly. We'd stop, open the van window and sliding door facing the house and all wave good-bye as Mother and Daddy stood at the kitchen window waving to us. There were many times that Evan would be pouting or crying as we waved, because he hadn't had enough time at the farm. It wasn't always easy for Mother and Daddy to even make it to the window to wave good-bye, but they both did for as long as they could. After Daddy died, Mother still would stand and wave to us. At the end of our last few visits before Mother died, no one stood there waving as we left.

What I wouldn't give to see Mother and Daddy standing at the kitchen window waving to us again. Or even to hear that familiar rap on the laundry room window. I'd be thrilled to look up and see Mother shaking her finger at me. But if I close my eyes and look through the window into my heart, I can see and hear both as if it were yesterday.