On a crisp fall day at my cabin, I sat in an adaptive swing. The swing had a high back and looked a bit like a child’s car seat. Aviva, my goddaughter, wore the unicorn dress I had just given her, the fluffy rainbow skirt spilling softly over my black leggings. Her small hands gripped my arms, her wide eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Ready to spin?” my dad asked Aviva, a playful grin tugging
at his lips.
“What does that mean?” she asked innocently, tilting her head.
“You’re going to find out!” he exclaimed, laughter in his voice.
My dad twisted the four chains that held the swing to the swing set’s top bar. He twisted them two good times and let us go. The swing surrendered to gravity, dipping and twirling us through the crisp autumn air. Leaves scattered in little whirlwinds around us as we spun.
“What did you think, Aviva?” my dad asked.
“Whoa, that was crazy!” she shouted, giggling.
“Do you want me to push you and then jump into my arms?” her great-uncle Dan
asked.
“Yes!”
“Stand on Hannah’s legs and I’ll catch you,” he added, his voice gentle.
Feeling the wind rush past our faces, my dad called, “OK, jump!”
Aviva leaped like a little frog from one lily pad to the next, her laughter ringing through the yard. My dad caught her effortlessly, her arms wrapping around him in delight.
“That was fun, but I’m finished.” Aviva ran off, her rainbow skirt bouncing behind her as she dashed back to the cabin to show her mom the tiny gap in her smile — she’d just lost a tooth. The tooth fairy will be coming tonight. “That was fun,” I said, nodding with enthusiasm, appreciating just how playful and magical my dad could be.
Even though the world can feel heavy and dark, moments like
these — swinging through the crisp autumn air, Aviva’s laughter ringing around
me — let the light in. They remind me that joy can arrive in sudden bursts,
soft and bright, warming the heart even when darkness seems to be all around us.
Keep Swinging (and hang in there),
Hannah!
