It was a beautiful summer evening, as my wife sat gently swinging on a bench in our backyard. I joined her on the swing.

It was an older swing. A bit rickety. Certainly not in the best shape. We had discussed how we might replace it someday.

As we sat there, however, with a gentle breeze joining us, the swing seemed to have plenty of evenings left.

Sure it needed some tightening of bolts. Sure it could use a coat of paint. Sure it needed some love, but it was a good swing and we recognized that.

That new found appreciation drenched in the beauty of dusk lulled us. Lulled us so much that we never saw the “snap” coming. It arrived sure and swift in my corner of the bench. A loud crack and a sudden realization that we were partially on the ground.

We had determined that the swing could stay. My girth had other plans.