Trip Home

I went to Decorah this weekend to clear out some of the things that my siblings and I had divided up between each other. Part of this included clearing out boxes from my old bedroom that had been lingering since junior high and high school. Most of these should have been tossed a long time ago, but I'm glad that they were there for me to look through.

While I was going through these boxes of old notebooks and paper, I came across the little pencil sketch below of my mom's rocking chair that I did in an 8th grade art class. I teared up a little bit when I found it because the rocking chair was always my favorite piece of furniture in the house. It isn't an expensive piece of furniture or ornate in any way, but some of my earliest memories are about that chair. When I was little, I had recurring nightmares. I know I've described them to some of you before and my memory of them is still sharp today. Anyway, I would often wake up crying. My mom would come get me out of my bed and take me to the rocking chair until I was ready to go back to bed. Sometimes she would pour me a glass of milk and give me a cookie to help calm me down. These are very sweet memories for me.

I also remember once when I was about 4, I stayed up in bed drawing with a pencil and paper and stabbed myself in the leg with the pencil. I wasn't a quiet naughty boy and started crying. I remember being certain that my mom would be furious with me, but she came and got me from bed and rocked me in this chair until I stopped crying. She was a great mom and I miss her every day.

So, what happened to the old rocking chair? After my dad died this summer, my siblings and I started talking about things in the house that we wanted. I mentioned that I would like the rocking chair and told them some of my memories of the chair. Very kindly, they all agreed that I could have it.

So, here it is in its new home. I took off the old vinyl seat covering and replaced it with a pretty fabric. It has become a little retreat for me when I want to remember my folks, or need to just find a different mental place. It is a well loved chair and my hope one day is to pass it on to one of my nieces or nephews when I am gone to carry on the memory of my mom and dad.

Mom's Rocker