Return to the Park

Ah, it feels so good to be out of the house. Oh, I hear my son calling for me. Something about staying on the path. I don’t want to answer, therefore I won’t. That is one of the benefits about getting old: you can pretend you don’t hear anyone and people will just blame it on your bad ears when in reality, us old people can hear you just fine, we just don’t feel like answering. 

If I remember correctly, the park isn’t that far from my son’s house. In fact, it is closer to his house than it was my house. It was so sweet of him to allow me to move in once I fell and bumped my head. He redid the doorway and the inside all before I moved in so I would have an easier time getting around the house. I raised him right. What a shame he never found himself a wife. I wanted grandkids.

Step, step, step-

The birds! I can hear the birds chirping! Oh how I have missed the birds! The winter time is always so depressing, with nature being dead and the bitter cold making it impossible to go outside. I always found it funny how fond little old ladies were of nature in my younger years, but here I was, walking my way to the park bench, with a brown paper bag in my hand full of bread crumbs to feed the pigeons. Now the park shouldn’t be too- ah there’s the gravel! It is a much more satisfying feeling to walk on the gravel trails than on a cement sidewalk. A person feels more inside nature and out of the suburbs. 

Old age hasn’t taken my sense of smell or feel away from me. I can smell the beautiful smells of the park. Spring has a peculiar smell. The flowers are finally blooming, the spring air smells sweet, and the warm sun is hitting my body, making my old bones feel just a bit younger again. I can feel the coolness when the sun hides behind a cloud, and the return of heat when the sun pokes back out again. 

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I can hear the trees wrestle through the cool spring breeze. This is a sound I haven’t heard in a while since the leaves have been gone all winter long. 

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I can hear the squeaking of play equipment and children’s laughter not too far from where I’m walking. There must be a playground nearby. It’s nice to hear the children are outside instead of playing their video games or talking to their friends on that thing they call ‘social media’. Children need to feel the warm sun on their backs and the breeze through their hair every once in a while. It helps them grow.

Step, step, step-

Oh, why bother staying on the path? I know it is dangerous from an elderly woman like me to stray, but I want to feel the grass for a moment. This tree I am standing by feels so rough, and I can feel it blocking the sun up above me, since the sun has seemingly disappeared for a moment. Alright, enough adventure, I should keep going until I find the park bench.

Step, step, step-

Huh! I heard a bug wiz right past me. Oh, how I dislike those pesky bugs! I hate how they buzz around in your ear and you can never seem to get rid of them, no matter how long you leave the window open. The one bad thing about spring is those bugs come back out from their slumber and cause chaos!

Step, step, step, step-

I believe I am getting close to the park bench. Every year, I come out to this exact park bench and feed the birds. I was nervous this year I was going to be unable to do it since my circumstances are different than any other year in my past, but I am so thankful that I am able to once again do what I love. 

Step, step, bump-

Oh! This must be the park bench. I should lean forward to feel it. Yes! This is it! I shall set my white cane beside it and lower myself down to sit. Oh, this is harder than I anticipated. Alright, I have made it down without slipping. Ah, the birds remember who I am. They are cooing by my feet. Here, you go, birds! Here’s a handful of bread crumbs.

I can imagine what the sights look like in front of me from my memory. The great big oak tree, older than me, is standing across the path from me, towering over all the trees below it and the park bench I sit on. There usually is a birds nest or two nuzzled inside its branches. Flowers of all bright colors fill in the gaps between the trees, with bees and butterflies flying from one flower to the next. Around this time in the evening, the sun is starting to set, so the cooler air is whistling through the park. 

It is breaking my heart that I cannot see these sights anymore. I miss my vision. If only I hadn’t slipped in the shower that one fall afternoon, my eyesight would still be here. Now, all I have left to aid me is my mind’s eye and memory. 

Here is the perfect place to think. Oh, I have so many blessings I’m able to count. I’m so blessed to be alive, and able to walk to the park again while there are so many other things I’m not able to do. I’m blessed to have such a generous son, who, even though I ignore sometimes, still loves me and takes me into his house, even making it blind-old-lady-proof. I’m blessed to still be alive, even at my age, even after my fall, even after my husband passed away.

You know, just listening to all the nature around me and remembering all the sights this park once delivered to me, and thinking of my blessings, it calms me. This world really isn’t all that bad a place.