I kept that tire swing

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tireswing

I remember grandpa 

pushing me on that swing

with permanently bowed fingers, once mangled by a corn-picker.

 

Years later I watched him climb up a loader and carefully balance on the bucket

just to hang a new swing for me.

At the height of his climb it sunk in; 

what a stupid request from an almost-grown girl!

 

I held my breath.

And watched a man, in his sixties, successfully scale that machine to tie a swing to a 100-year-old oak tree.

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