That Chair
Yeah.
I know.
She’s weathered and worn.
She’s seen better days.
She could use a new look
& ugh.
UGH you STILL have that chair ??
Yep
I still have that chair
& yep
I have heard every complaint,
every comment
& every year, I swear to myself and to my others that this, THIS !! will be the year.
I’ll paint her orange, I say.
Chicago Bears’ orange.
I’ll freshen her up.
I’ll make her modern.
I’ll ….
I’ll …
No, I won’t.
I won’t.
Because something deep inside says to leave her be, she’s fine
& truth be told, I think she’s rather pretty.
She’s been in this family for year upon year upon year.
First a Granny and Grandpa’s, in her hunter green youth.
Next at Mom and Dad’s in her Purdue University heyday
& now, with me.
For as long as I can remember, with me.
Somewhere down the line I called !! first dibs !! and somehow she just ended up on my back porch.
She’s my summertime chair
& she’s rather cozy, actually.
She’s got this certain, little tilt to her so as I’m sitting there, I can rock back and forth, if I choose
& I choose.
I’ve had many a conversation, read many a book, viewed many an eastern evening sky with that gentle, casual, rocking tilt
& the reason that I love her so much is because of the history that surrounds her.
It’s the picnics and the pool times.
The have a seat, grab a beer.
The quiet and the noisy.
The difficult, the easy.
The heartache and joy.
It’s the generational thing of it all.
The been there, done that.
The uh huh, I know what you’re feeling because I felt it too.
The every-things of life.
ahhhhh, Life.
So, no.
I’ll never change her, no matter what they say, no matter what I say.
She’s absolutely perfect.
Perfectly old.
Perfectly weathered.
Perfectly worn
& yes,
oh yes,
I STILL have that chair.
🙂