I wish you enough:

...a house that does not have

one, worn out

comfy chair in it...is soulless...

March

The other morning, I was making my way down the 
stairs, trying to be extra quiet...not knowing
if anyone had fallen asleep on the couch
from the previous night.   Comfortable in the warmth of the fire
and draped in the fur we have placed over the back.

   In my quietness, I stubbed my toe, on the rocker.
I got to thinking about
chairs...the memory of them.  The stories
they hold.

My mind wandered back to when I was four
years old.  I had been trying to make a 
place for myself, in the neighborhood...and had not been
very successful at it.  An older child, who was
handicapped, had grabbed my hair, and pulled for all
she was worth, which sent me home.
Trying to smother my sobs, and sneak into the back bedroom
where I could hide my embarrassment...
 my Mother, heard me, and called for me to come to her.

I hesitantly peered around the corner, trying to
wipe the smudges off my cheek.
She waited patiently in a rocker, with 
her arms out stretched.

I fled into that all comforting embrace and the crying started
up harder.  I was almost to big for Mom, to hold me.
But hold me she did...and rocked, saying nothing,
just letting my little heartache subside...
stroking my hair, and softly sshhing my tears.
When hic-ups ensued, a little song broke forth, and eventually I joined in.  All was right with the world.

We talked, she comforted...she laughed, and shared stories
of "rocky" friendships she had, had as growing up.
I wanted to believe, that tomorrow
things would be better.

And...it was.

An old chair.

Whenever I go to visit the grand-youngun's I am delighted
when there are a few, who still enjoy climbing 
up on my lap in an old chair.

Love the connection of the rocking back and forth,
it is timeless.  Love to be able to let them 
hear and feel the beating of my heart...love it when they
will humor me, in a soft lullaby.


As one who loves to read, there is nothing more inviting,
than an old chair, with a quilt...and an excuse
to take a short vacation, to where ever 
the story unfolds.


As a lover, I have this fantasy of finding
an old red leather recliner, BIG enough
to hold two...side by side.
I tease my guy about it all the time, he just looks
at me like I have lost my mind, and says..."But who will
get the remote?"

***

Sometimes, we put up walls...not to keep people out,
but to see who cares enough to break 
them down.


Grateful for the timelessness of an old chair,
for the soul it brings into 
our home.