The Quiet Playground

It was a quiet place, I had to admit. Just a bench in the nearby park, in a corner where no one would go to and wouldn't bother us. The only sounds I could hear were the singing of the birds and the ruffling of leaves. The little girl beside me balanced her feet over the ground, her toes barely touching it.  

“You have to return home, you know.” She spoke.  

“I know, but it's peaceful here.”  

“It's too quiet.” She argued.  

“Didn't you like the quiet?” I asked her.  

“Yes, but not too quiet.”  

“Not too quiet,” I repeated and gave her a sad smile. “I do like some noise every once in a while, too.”  

She shrugged, unbothered. “If noise is what you want, why didn't you take me to the playground?”  

I sigh. “You always liked the quiet too.”  

“Well, not now! Come on, I want to play!”  

I turn my face away from her. “Just sit down and enjoy the quiet. Isn't sitting down next to me good enough for you?”  

The girl scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You just don't want to let me go.”  

My eyes tear up. “No, I don't.”  

She visibly calms down and sits still. “I guess I can go later.”  

“You have all the time in the world to play, but...” I finally turn to look at her. “I'd rather you don't leave.” I sigh. “I wish we could stay here forever.”  

She gives me a reassuring smile. “Don't worry. You can come pick me up later.”  

We both turned our attention towards the sound of my wife's voice calling to me.  

“I think mom is calling you.” She gently pushed me to get up, but I refused. “Dad, you can come pick me up later. I'll be fine. I'm a big girl.” She smiled at me. “I can take care of myself.”  

I take a moment to think before sighing and nodding to her. “Alright, but be careful on the swings, alright?”  

She nodded. “I will!” She got off the bench and turned to look at me. “I'll stay at the swings until you pick me up.”  

I nod. "Have fun.”  

She smiled at me and ran off until she was out of sight. Just then, my wife finally reached me with an umbrella in hand. “Who were you talking to?”  

“No one...” I answer.  

She sighs and looks up at the sky as raindrops pour down. She opens her umbrella and offers me a space underneath it. “It's time to go home.”  

“What about our girl?”  

Her eyes tear up. “The funeral is over, my love.” She looked towards the playground in the distance. I had walked away from the funeral, not able to bear the somber atmosphere, and had gone to the nearby park. “I know she liked this playground...” She mentioned.  

“She does.”  

“Honey--”  

I stood up and calmly took my place underneath the umbrella. “I'll pick her up when it's time.”  

My wife's eyes tear up. “Alright.” She gently hugged me and returned the embrace. “She's not truly gone, you know.”  

“I know you're trying to stay strong for me.” I kissed the top of her head. “And I appreciate it. But she was our only daughter. I think...” I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “I think it's alright to cry.”  

My wife shook her head, trying to stay strong. But as soon as the tears fell, she crumbled on my chest. She shouted how unfair it was that our little girl's life was cut short so soon. I let her cry and wail all she needed. I was her pillar or else she'd crumble to the ground. She rambled on and on about how unfair it was. How unfair it was for someone to take her life because they were drunk and ran her over. How unfair it was that their little girl had nothing to do with it and yet, she paid the price while her killer was still alive. How unfair it was that the child they had tried so hard to conceive, the one they wished for years well into their forties, was taken away.  

“We were never supposed to bury her.” She sniffed. “We were supposed to watch her grow and go to college and... and... and get married! Have children of her own! We were supposed to raise her into a great human being!”  

“I know...”  

My wife backed away a bit as she rubbed her eyes, wiping her tears away. “What should we do now?”  

I sigh. “I guess, we can go home.”  

“I don't want to.” She whispered, shaking her head. “I... I can't bear to see her room, her toys, her books... Just knowing that she won't ever use them again and we must give them away...”  

“I don't want to either, but you know we must look at them eventually. Keeping them won't do us any good.” I pulled her close to me. “But we can talk about that later.”  

“Do we?”  

“Eventually, yes.”  

She takes a deep breath and exhales. The rain had ceased for a bit but hadn't stopped. She handed me the umbrella, silently indicating it was my turn to cover us. She took my hand instead. “Let's just... Go for a walk. I'm in no hurry to go home.”  

“Neither am I,” I say before sighing. “We could return every once in a while,” I suggest.  

My wife looks up. “Why?”  

“I just feel that we should come by often. It was her favorite place after all.”  

She seems to think about it before nodding. “Alright.”  

“And we can sit on the bench to enjoy the quiet. I know that's something she'd appreciate.”  

We leave quietly as the rain starts to pour down. I looked back at the playground and noticed the swings moving on their own without the help of a single breeze as if a child was sitting there. I smiled sadly and turned away.  

We proceed with our walk, simply enjoying the stillness and the quiet of the park.