I’d just birthed my son and I wanted a rocker for nursing him
This chair was old, an antique
Some chips in the paint, one arm a bit loose
But it still had life left in it
We rocked and we rocked.
Probably an hour or more together per day
Not to mention my solo rocking as I read and crocheted
We gave that chair away about five years ago
There just wasn’t room for it anymore
And it was more than a bit shabby-looking
and in need of fixing beyond my dabs of wood glue
For some reason I was looking at some ads on craigslist yesterday
And I happened upon a photo of a rocking chair
Not the same chair, but the same chair
And now its mine. For my porch.
When I first sat in it this afternoon
I sang my special (made up in my head and sung just for them) lullabys for the kids
Watching with delight as they remembered
what they’d not even known that they had forgotten.