Block 72

Rocking Chairs

Life,

as I remember it,

began in a rocking chair.

I think I have mentioned

that I grew up in my Grandma's house.

Grandpa died soon after Lee was born

and Mom, Dad and Lee moved home.

I was born 4 years later.

My earliest memory

is snuggling up with Grandma

inher rocking chair.

This chair sat beside the

dining room window,

looking out onto Vandalia Street.

This is where Grandma would crochet.

But,

in the morning,

when Mom was

getting breakfast ready

for Dad before work

and Lee befre school,

I would snuggle/cuddle

with Grandma.

Many a day I can remember

herasking me

if I thought

we had rocked enough miles

to visit

Aunt Ora and Margaret in Florida?

Then,

if I would sneeze,

she would ask

if the sneeze was strong enough

to get us to Florida.

To  this day,

if I go into dsomones home

and they have a rocking chair,

I claim it for my own.

The strange thing is,

Mom & Dad bought me

a rocking chair

when I was in my 20's

and I seldom sit in it.

Go figure?

Thereis just someting magical

about the movement of a rocker.

Not a glider,

but a rocker.

That same feeling

is felt on a porch swing

and in a passenger car on a train.

Just a smooth rocking motion.

Makes me smile just thinking of it.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for allowing me to have kept the memory of being with Grandma in her rocker. I wish, to this day, that we had kept it. I have no idea what happened to it after Grandma died . . . maybe it finally fell apart from all the miles she and I put on it during our morning trips to Florida.

Amen

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