My Great Aunt's Place

Friendship Park

Friendship is such an inviting name for a park. The name gives you this preconceived notion that upon going or hanging out in this park that friendship will happen. If you were honest with yourself you would admit that if the park were given the name “Nemesis” or “Antagonist” it would not have the same curb appeal.

When I first saw the brown wooden sign that supported painted gold in all capped letters, FRIENDSHIP PARK, I thought to myself “what a silly name for a park!” But as the days grew into nights the park remained the same busy place and I began to spend time there. I watched as the basketball players played ball, the soccer players chasing the ever moving checker patterned blur, spaced out/over worried parents watching there kids on the playground equipment, the dog walkers, the runners and power walkers, old couples hand in hand, and young couples kissing.

This park, undeniably, was a place of friendship.

Winter turned into spring, spring to summer, and summer into fall, but no matter the season the flow of people in the park was always consistent.  I kept wondering what the park was like at night.

Was such a friendly park inviting at night as well?

So, a few nights back I packed up my camera gear and jaunted over the few blocks to the park from where I live I sat and I watched the mother’s talking life, kids screaming, skate borders…the park seemed full of life and zest, noise and familiarity, but as the sun went down, the park emptied one by one. It was sad in a way, watching as the wind swayed the empting swings back and forth.  The once lively park now seemed vast a desolate. The sound of the basketball players in the background seemed far away and cold. I was surprised to feel this way.  It simply felt wrong as I sat on the bench and observed what was happening, I could not leave so I lay down and watched the stars above wondering if life was on pause or if the isolated playground was simply asleep.

I stayed like that for a time, but then I walked around. Feeling the cold metal bars, the pinch of the chains on the swings, the rough bark laying still on the ground, a smile came across my face as I recognized that the park was not desolate or sad instead it was full of friendship and life just in a calmer way. I was still at rest and the weight of my world had somehow left.

The park had done its job, once again.

A park is there for the end of a chapter when you need a fresh beginning. It serves the purpose its called for, weather its for play, practice, or contentment. Weather its for a mass amount of people, young to old, or for one girl in the heart of night.

A park could just be a park, a place that was built for no other purpose then to be built. But what if we all took the time to see the beauty in what always seems so common? What if we found purpose in the ordinary?

I found it to be extraordinary.

My Neighborhood My City

Upon being asked about my neighborhood I found that I had trouble defining what neighborhood meant to me. Is it the place where I rest my head at night? Would it be the place I spend most of my time? Or, perhaps neighborhood is a place where you find rest and comfort. But in the end the answers to those questions did not satisfy me.

So what is neighborhood to me? As a twenty-one year old college student I find this question troubling. I have moved several times since high school from Seattle to Montana then a summer in the US. Virgin Islands, back to Montana, and here I am residing in Spokane Washington. Thou I live in a small basic apartment building now I am moving in a few weeks to a different part of Spokane. I hope you can see now why defining neighborhood is hard for me, a frequent mover.  I never stay in a place long enough to build a community and to create my neighborhood.

However, this past weekend I found myself walking around downtown Spokane with a friend and I realized that the city is my neighborhood. I saw the zeal of angry protesters and thou I didn’t understand fully what they were protesting for I was smiling because I was proud to be part of a passionate city. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was where I should be. I was no longer a wonderer but in a communal environment. I made friends, I have grown closer to my family, and I find that I am building my adult life, here. The scars of my past do not haunt me here and I am free to be the “me” I was always afraid be.  I have lived in the city of Spokane for almost a year and I can already tell that though I may switch apartments from time to time I wont be leaving Spokane for a while. While unrestricted, and free to do as I please, I have chosen to restrict myself to a place that I perhaps belong, at least for now.

The apartment I am at now is on the corner of one of the most dominant streets in the city, Division. I live behind a grocery store, my building is adjacent to a fire station, and I am in walking distance to a family park, the local Costco, and my favorite place to eat Noodle Express. I see people walking down the street and they smile or they look down but either way I feel close to them in some small way because I know that we are sharing more then just a walking place but a city and a home.

At times I will place my ear buds in and listen to my IPod while walking around the area. The church across the street usually has a steady flow of bodies coming in and out. On Thursday nights it’s a pack of giggling middle-aged women that must be leaving a Bible study.  A few blocks down the road is an elementary school and last night I saw a preteen girl face plant off her scooter I stopped to see if she was okay but by that time she was happy-go-lucky again and scooting along and a chuckle came from my lips as I shook my head. The fire station is always blaring the sound of rescue and behind the grocery store is usually a stack of busted shopping carts in pills of creative looking garbage.  

Maybe neighborhood is not that standard assumption that it is the houses around us or the white picket fence perhaps it is simply just where you are at when your restless heart begins settle. And here it is fall and the leaves and turning there colors and crumbling to the damp cold ground and I could not imagine being anywhere else. I am content.   

We Are Family

 

Something that will never go away is the love of your family members. Sure there are fights, disagreements, and sometimes even raw uncut hurt but somewhere in your heart you will always have a special love for them (even if it is way down deep).  

 

I found that in life I can always count on family for love and support especially when everything seem to fall apart. They offer smiles, laughs, and good conversation.

This past Sunday my family gathered together for lunch at the home of a very close relative, my Aunt Trish. It was a simple time some drank their beers and I drank my Sprite, they had their hamburgers and I had my veggie-burger.  

It dawned me as I sat in the corner of my aunt’s house that we would all be nothing without family. I smiled when I saw the ketchup hanging in the corner of my uncle’s mouth. Just beyond my uncles unattractive eating skills were my cousins tossing grapes on the floor with joyous grins; while my aunt’s and my grandma engaged in casual conversation about work stresses and the madness of life. Of course my grandpa was just silently watching as usual with a parma-grin on his face occasionally adding his funky little chuckle.

I realized that whether we our cutting up onions, talking over drinks, laughing over spilled grapes, we are a family. Maybe this concept seems natural to you but for me it is a reality that is slowly seeping in. I was raised in Montana and thou I always knew my family loved me I never really had a deep connection with then until I moved to Washington a year ago.  

My aunt took me under her wing and she became my sub-mamma and my uncle invited my to take photograph’s of the Combat Veterans Association, a group he is involved with. He even gave me a fishing vest with my biker name patch, ShutterBug, on it. It is beautiful really when your blessed enough to have your family become your friends. I know that with every graduation, death, birth, barbeque, we will always have each other.

I believe it is safe to say that Sunday was a darn good day!     

Happy 20th Birthday Jes

My best friend lives in PA while I live in WA so I decided to walk around downtown to ask if people would wish her happy birthday!