i was only in elementary school when my uncle, a mechanical engineer, gave us a metal two-seater swing set for my little brother's birthday. we had such fun times then, daring eah other to swing standing up, or having two to a swing standing up, swinging up as high as we dare. the highest we were after was the lowest leaf of the bayabas tree shading our play area.

when we were older the swing turned into a place to hang out at night, tell stories, secrets. it was a place where no one can hear what we say, except for the person in the swing next to us. as it was, we took the cordless phone there to have intimate conversations with whoever was on the line.

and then we moved. of course, the swing set moved with us--we couldn't possibly leave it behind. it now stands at the side of our house. but we are all older now. my younger brother is going into high school, and all of us are much more interested in sitting in front of the computer than running around outside.

i saw the swing set sitting there gloomily recently. the seats were covered with a sprinkilng of dry leaves and a fair share of mud from all the rains. i brushed most of the dirt off and took a seat. my legs are too long for it now, and i can't swing high like i used to. but the older, more quiet me didn't need to. i was perfectly content to sit there, gently swinging to and fro, and remembering.