Swing Essays - Fiction, Grandpa, GrandPas, Swing Music,

Swing Every summer i go to my grandpa's house it was when i was six years old that we first took the walk across the old bridge that bridge was a special bridge i had always known the river was there, but not like this it was a nice walk to the river with grandpa that river was a special river i could tell by the look in his eyes that today was a special day grandpa pointed to an old tree that wasn't far from the bridge it was a special tree at first it was scary, but the more i looked at it, the more wisdom it seemed to hold (just like grandpa) grandpa showed me an old swing and set me on it he told me about all the hard work he had done to make it and it made me feel proud to sit on it it was on that same swing that grandpa asked grandma to marry him this swing was a special swing he talked and i listened- it was the first time i had really listened to what grandpa had to say we spent the whole afternoon down by the swing grandpa told me that that was where daddy had broken his arm this swing meant a lot to grandpa and i love him.