September Surrender: Day Twenty Two
I visited my old grammar school today. My boyfriend and I went out for breakfast and I got to asking if the old playground was still up over there. He told me we’d take a little drive over to see. We couldn’t tell from our vantage point driving past, so we parked out front, walked through the bus pickup driveway, and around to the back to where we used to have recess.
It was just like I remembered it with a few additions. There was a fenced off piping area on the brick wall we’d play Butts Up against. The drainage ditch where we’d play Statues was still there, leading up to a small portion of lawn that was slightly deforested and opened up. The new playground they installed when we were in fifth grade was still there, but they clearly added onto it, along with the Upper Field, though they tore up some trees as well. The playground I was thinking of was clearly not there, as a few years after we graduated they expanded the school and added a new gymnasium in its place. So no, no more playground. Just a profound image of shared childhood memories and the promise to give that to our own children soon.
No, I’m not knocked up. But we both know that’s coming. In fact, I told him I feel like we’re married already, we just live in separate homes for now. All of this is coming. All of this is on the way. Even though “I’m basically your wife,” I want to have that same kind of feeling of basically being a mommy too. To make decisions as if I’ve already got a baby to take care of. Because, like I said, that’s coming, no matter how many times he balks at the snapshot of a life with more than one.
I just think I can pretend for a little while longer and begin to mentally prepare for that life. Because it all flies by in an instant. It feels like only yesterday we’d line up in that driveway, waiting for our buses to take us home for the day. We also recalled the time of the school’s 80th birthday, where all the classes went outside to stand in a giant ’80.’ Mom stood on the roof directing everyone so she could record it. There was a photo of her in the newspaper, back to the camera, arms spread like a conductor to get us all in formation. It’s moments like this I treasure and hope our kids will one day too. Believing it’s already here makes the photo develop quicker.