The way it was

He took us to playgrounds, many playgrounds, different playgrounds. Different times of the day.
I looked forward to the trips. They were relaxing. Time moved slowly, quietly. Sometimes, it was still. So still. Peaceful. He'd be sitting there, just waiting and watching. Or reading the papers. We'd be playing with sand, the swings, the see-saws, the climbing structures...or we'd be doing nothing. Just watching, waiting, thinking, dreaming...anything we'd wanted to do. Then, it'd be time. We'd pack up, clean up, in an organised manner because that's how he'd taught us. We got into the car and drove home, quietly in an orderly manner.

He took me to the playground at evening times. The sun's down and no one's around. It's dark save for the fluorescent street lamps. We walk quietly. His littlest finger extended so I can hold on to him. I listen as he talked, if he talked. He spoke quietly, surely, firmly, if he spoke. I'm on the slide, atop the slide. We play hide and seek. It's dark all around the parameters of the playground. There is no one else but us. It's quiet save for the crickets and frogs. I'm afraid but I remain calm. I can't see him but I 'm not supposed to panic. Because I know he's around. He will not leave me, I just cannot see him from where I am. Because I know that if I panic, I can't think. We practice this. Every other night. Don't panic, don't cry. Think. Look around. Think. Then act. Always remain calm. Crying will not help.

These are only some of the memories. They've been flooding back to me recently. They just fill the recesses of my resting mind. So I write.