Just a rocking chair

We moved the rocking chair out of my son’s bedroom this past week. It was another milestone for me, and brought memories flooding back of those early days.

Some may see just a rocking chair. I see a pink bedroom all ready and waiting for our daughter to be born. I see a pink cushion with Winnie the Pooh on sitting on that chair hand sewn by my mom with so much love. I see that rocking chair moved out of the pink bedroom into the blue bedroom next door, all ready and waiting for my son to be born. I see a blue cushion with white squares to match Peter Rabbit sitting on that chair, again hand sewn by my mom with so much love.

Some may just remember a rocking chair. I remember Amy rocking to sleep, just the two of us as the rest of the world slumbered. I remember sitting there as I read her story after story before naptime. I remember rocking Ethan to sleep, lost in a world of exhaustion and love and sometimes even despair in the early days. I remember Amy climbing on my knee as we sat together reading him story after story before naptime.

Some may say it’s just a rocking chair, but it’s so much more than that to me. It’s wrapped up in my memories of when my two children were born, when they were so small that they fell asleep on my shoulder, and as they grew when they snuggled up there on my lap, and then later as they both cuddled up next to each on that rocking chair.

You were always so much more to me than just a rocking chair.  Is it silly to cry over a rocking chair? My mom heart doesn’t think so.

Goodbye rocking chair. Thanks for the memories.

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