I watch from the window as our trampoline is dismantled.
The net has a tear. Rust has appeared here and there. A pole has popped out of the net.
It was installed on the first anniversary after Mick died. In the middle of winter.
First jumped on that evening to squeals of delight.
I supervised with a bittersweet smile as the kids charged into the nets on the side – bouncing off and into each other with laughter.
It was yet another parenting moment that I couldn’t share with Mick.
I also felt relief and hope.
Hope that the trampoline would support us through the witching hour when the kids had energy to burn.
Hope that it would be not only a place of fun but also a place to help the kids shift their moods – particularly their anger, confusion and frustration.
It provided all that and more.
Twas an icebreaker with visitors, the centrepiece of parties, ball games, dance shows, imagination, creativity and a safe-ish place to wrestle.
Just a few months ago the three of us lay side by side on the tramp taking in the stars and the wonder of a lunar eclipse. Some of the mysteries of the universe.
I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve climbed on to it to get a better view of an afternoon rainbow.
I look out again and now the trampoline has gone – the space left in our courtyard is stark in the summer sun.
I almost need my sunglasses the glare is so bright.
Builders will use the space for the next few months. They are going to help us transition our home for the next stage and phase of the teenage years.
And then what will we use the space for?
We have lots of ideas – including boats, growing vegetables and rollerskating … all will be revealed in time.
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