It was the only “just because” gift I ever asked for: “Daddy, can I have a tire swing?”
He said, “Sure.” I was stunned, because I thought he’d say no.
We drove to Wal-Mart and picked out a plastic tire. He hung it from the maple in our side yard. Every week I spent hours in motion, breathing in honeysuckle breezes, swinging up to kick the tree’s outermost twigs, singing nursery rhymes and DC Talk beneath a mosaic of silver-green and blue.
I never asked for another gift. In my mind, I had everything I could ever want.