[ WP ] A man pushes an empty swing .

It had started as a ritual. A small coping mechanism to help him deal with his loss. He'd come out to her favorite park and push her favorite swing, feeling her weight, not in his arms as he once had, but in his soul. 
 
 Every day, for two months. And every day, as he'd leave the park, he'd bid her memory a tearful goodbye and walk to his car. 
 
 He told his wife he was staying late at the office, because he could n't bring himself to mention their daughter and see her tear up. He knew she'd been grieving in her own way, and he'd made sure he was there for her. But he had to be strong, had to be the warm comfort she needed when she called for her daughter before remembering. *Women and children first. Me, I can tough it out. * Maybe when she had her closure, he'd tear off this makeshift bandage and deal with what was underneath. But for now, his duty was to protect and serve his wife. 
 
 He went home. Dinner was followed by a movie, one they'd been meaning to watch whenever the TV was n't occupied by Barney and Doc McStuffins. It was a good movie, even great; but they'd have willingly turned it off and watched the giant purple dinosaur sing his inane song for the seven hundredth time, if there would have only been a reason. After the movie, a good romantic comedy that left her in tears, he held her close until her ragged breaths came regularly again. Then bed, and eight more hours of accounting the next day. 
 
 Five o'clock. He drove to the playground, pretended she was meeting him there after the daycare across the street, let out. But when he got there, there was a little boy, sitting in *her* swing. It takes an unbelievable effort to control himself, and the boy sees him, jumps out of the swing and runs to him, saying, `` Why are you crying?'' 
 
 The boy's mother quickly hurries him off to play on the monkey bars, and he composes himself ( must n't let her see him all worked up ) and goes to meet her on the swing. 
 
 She's happy and bubbly as always, telling him about the mean boy who stole a cracker from her during snack, and about the picture she made for him ( `` I left it there, Daddy, it was n't dry yet'' ). But soon enough, five o'clock become five-thirty, and he must tell her goodbye and go home, where she'd never get to go again. 
 
 
 *Someday, * he promises her. *Someday I'll be here to stay. *
