My Neighbourhood's Park

My neighbourhood’s park is not at all special to a stranger’s eyes. In fact, never was it really special to me or to anyone I know - it was just there, being one of those things you’re used to seeing. It ain’t got much space and all it really got is a few benches, a few trees, a seesaw whose wood seems to be a bit rotten and a hammock whose strings are worn from time.

Today, however, everything is different. It’s not just any other summer day, it’s actually the last I’ll get to spend in my hometown for the next few m years. I plan on coming back, that’s for sure - I’m not at all sure when that’s going to happen, though. The idea of New York has exited me ever since I was a child and I feel blessed for the opportunity I’m facing now. I’ll be able to watch a Broadway show for the first time, ice skate, visit the Empire State Building and walk through Manhattan. Still, nostalgia started to kick in throughout the whole week. 

On Monday, I organized a meet-up with my extended family and they were all there: aunt Clarissa, uncle Robert, my cousins and my grandparents. All of them. We launched some spaghetti as we talked about life and aunt Clarissa talked with my father about their childhood. My dad and my aunt are the most fun people I know, and I hardly think there’s anyone who’s got more anecdotes than they have. When you think you know it all, they tell you a whole new adventure like the time they went fishing and caught a puppy or the time they were playing hide-and-seek and my dad got lost for an entire week. They jokingly demanded that I bring them some gifts and we played some board games like we used to do. 

On Tuesday, I got together with my childhood friends who happen to be my very best friends too. I’ve known them since  we were all four years old and it amazes me to think of all the things we’ve lived together. We went to the same school, we lived in the same neighbourhood and we were in each other’s lives as we grew up. They are the ones who know my deepest secrets, and they even know things that my own family is completely unaware of. We enjoyed our day together as we skated and conversed about the most random memories that our brains could remember. 

On Wednesday, I got together with my college friends who are also a crucial part of my life today. Even if we met at 18 years old, I feel as though we’ve known each other for much, much longer. We’ve all shared the same passion for music and, apart from being friends, we actually have a band together. I’m going to miss our rehearsals and to just hang out, but I’m sure it will continue when I come back. On wednesday, we played our favorite musical creations and our favorite bands’ songs and, as you may already have guessed, we also talked our heads off. I really admire how talented they are and I wish they could come to New York with me sometime. 

On Thursday I decided to be a tourist in my own city. From the place I live in, it’s no more than a 30-minute-drive but, for some reason, I never would have gone there haven’t it been for my school. They say that if you’re close to something, you are likely not to appreciate it and I believe that to be true. Therefore, I made it a point to know my city better before my plane took off. I visited the shoppings, the bars and I strolled through the streets. I appreciated the sunny summer day and had a chocolate milkshake. I walked. When I walk, and especially If I’ve got my headphones on, it’s most likely that I’ll lose track of time. This is how I walked for most of the day and didn’t realize it until my feet hurt at night. 

On Friday, I chose to have a very peaceful day with my family. We talked, we watched a few movies and we talked some more. Mum baked her classic pepperoni pizza which is the best pizza you’ll ever taste, if you get the chance to try it. I gave my dog Rocco all the love and attention I could give him before it was too late and I watched my fish as they swam and minded their own business. At night, I went bowling with my sister and she won once again. I wonder if she ever loses at all.

Today, being saturday, I chose to walk through my own neighbourhood. It was not really a planned activity but there wasn’t much left to do and there was not really anyone else to visit. I’ve already met up with the important people in my life and I’ve already visited the city as I knew I wanted to do. As I strolled through the familiar streets, I passed by the usual stores I attend to every day. The pharmacy, the mini market and the library, for instance. Some of the stores’ owners even said hi with their hand as they watched me walk past them. It made me sad that I wouldn't be able to see them anymore, even if they were familiar strangers after all. I walked past my neighbour’s houses whose cars were as usual parked in the entrance and saw their dogs for one last time.

When I got to the neighbourhood’s park, my heart felt as though it would jump right off my test. Never have I felt anything like this before and, as I mentioned earlier, there wasn’t really anything special about this one park. As soon as I got to New York I’d be able to visit Central Park which I’m sure you know, at least, by name. Its beauty has been reflected in numerous movies, TV series and books. My neighbourhood, on the other hand, has not been reflected anywhere else other than in its visitors’ eyes. I may have a couple photos of my friends in there, but the location is not really the point of the photos. It’s tiny and its grass isn’t cut the way it should be cut. Its games, if you can call them that, are in an increasingly decadent state as time goes by. 

This park was the place we’d go to when there was no one else to go. You could see my friends and I there at any time. It could be 3 pm, 8 pm or 2 am - and no, I’m not exaggerating. It was also the place I went to when I needed some fresh air and the spot I’d go to with Rocco when we went for a walk. I’d throw sticks so that he would go catch them like a dog is supposed to do, but he never really understood the point of the sticks anyways. All he did was look at me with a confused expression and licked my hand. He’s one of the sweetest dogs you’ll meet, that’s for sure. 

The Central park might be famous and aesthetically beautiful, but it ain’t heard the conversations my neighbourhood park has heard. When I was a kid, I’d play with my sister in these very trees. We’d fool around and we talked about our lives as we swung in its branches. As we grew older, the conversations went on and we kept on fooling around the trees. If you expected to hear about a change there, let me tell you you’re wrong. Sorry. After all, there are things that never change - this park, for instance, hasn’t really changed much. Actually, it hasn’t changed at all in my eyes. 

Central Park appeared in a hundred movies. Yes, I know that and I really want to see it in person for once. However, my neighbourhood park’s the place in which I had my first date and it was also the place where I had my first kiss. In this very park, I learned to skate thanks to my friend Tom who insisted even if I was too afraid to believe in myself. I fell a couple of times but I soon got the hold of it, and I could never get rid of my skate now. In fact, I’m taking it with me to New York. 

I looked at the rotten seesaw and wondered how many people had sat on it. Actually, I’m more interested in the stories more than the number itself. Why were they using whis seesaw? Were they with their friends, with a romantic interest or a family member? Were they on their own? Was it a good day, how are their lives right now? Do they still go to this park or are they in a whole different city now? Do they like dogs like myself? I wonder how many people came alone here feeling sad and how many of them came with a bunch of people. Has anyone cried here like myself? Why were they crying? Have they already healed from their pain? Thankfully, I did. I’ve come to this park with all the different emotions that may exist. I’ve come here feeling excited, bored, happy, angry, sad, disappointed, depressed, in love and stressed. Has anyone had their first kiss here, too?

That spot in that particular bench holds a bunch of different stories. Take the park as a whole and you’ll get a bunch more. If my story is complex and has so many layers to it, so is anyone else’s. I wonder if anyone thinks about these things. I wonder how many stories the park has heard throughout the years. 

I’m a firm believer that we give a piece of our heart to every single person that was relevant in our life. I also believe we do the exact same thing with the physical places that have touched us in some way, and I’ve surely given a part of me to this very park. Tomorrow, when my plane takes off, a new story will begin and I’ve got no idea of how that will go. For now, I am grateful for what I’ve already lived. Thanks for the good days and for the bad ones too, I’ll see you my dear neighbourhood park anytime soon.