Shalom chaverim, shalom chaverim,
This is the park where my youngest celebrated her first birthday.
This is the park where my twins celebrated their 8th birthday.
This is the park where the local branch of the March of Dimes holds their March for Babies every year. This year's walk here is 2 days after we close on our new house. It will be the first walk we've missed since 2004.
This is the park where my kids have met friends for play dates.
This is the park with my kids' favorite splash pad.
That tire swing to the right is where I got my favorite shot of my son and husband playing.
Towards the center, is the covered slide my youngest loved riding down with her 6-year-old friend (who insists on being at the baby's side any time she's around).
That ditch right there in front is the same one that damn-near made my heart stop every time the kids got too close.
That bench in the center is where I sat and chatted with friends while our kids played.
To the right, not shown in the photo, is the pavilion where my daughters' had their end of the school year Girl Scout party today.
In a quiet moment, I looked over at the empty tire swing. I remembered my son playing there with his father. I remembered my brother pushing my kids, his son and some friends on there at the baby's first birthday party. I remembered the girls giggling with one of their best friends as another friend spun them quickly.
This place is haunted with happy memories of friends. Everywhere we turn, we're reminded of playing, talking, sliding, hiding and laughing with some of our favorite people.
I didn't want to leave the park. As the rain started, everyone else filed out. I sent the kids to say, "Good bye," to their friends, some for the last time. I stayed behind and looked around. The immensity of leaving these memories, these places, these people behind hit me hard.
Good bye, my friends. Good Bye, my friends.
Goodbye/Peace. Good bye/Peace.
Until we meet again. Until we meet again.
Good bye, Peace.