In reality, it is a dilapidated old chair that would not look out of place if seen along the curb on garbage day.
A hand-me-down chair that has never been comfortable or all that attractive. When I sit in it my neck cramps up and I can’t wait to get out of it. I rather unsuccessfully attempted to reattach the front dust ruffle with staples.
It is a piece of junk.
I told my husband I thought we should get rid of it. It has sat in our bedroom for the last few years and hasn’t been used for anything other than holding piles of clothes and stuffed animals I long ago promised to repair. Even the dog hasn’t claimed it.
He agreed and then as we stood next to it planning its trip to the rubbish center I started to cry.
That chair was where I’d rocked my brand new baby to sleep every night. That chair is where I read bedtime stories. That chair is where I hoped nap time would come. That chair is where I prayed over my sweet child. That chair is where I sang our special lullaby, the one that I can sadly no longer remember the words to.
This chair held my child and me on nights when sleep eluded us. It was a special place of sacred closeness.
It made its way to our room as toddler furnishings gave way to tween hangout space.
Our lullaby has been replaced with requesting Alexa to play bass drops. Picture books replaced with chapter books. Snuggles replaced with sitting side by side.
While certainly our lives are equally intertwined as our fingers once were that old chair is a symbol of time passed.
It is of course just as it should be, my babe has outgrown my lap. Surely, that doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could rock us back and forth until stress dissolved into slumber. Forward and back we’d go until we found peace.
When I look at that old chair I have nothing but good memories of a time I miss. So the chair stays, at least for now. It is my favorite piece of furniture and I didn’t even realize it. I will likely not spend much time in the chair but I find some comfort in knowing I could curl up in it and revisit the memories of long nights and fleeting years.
Back and forth until peace came.
~Michelle
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