Grandma's Sanctuary

The year is 1950. A pleasant summer evening has arrived in the quiet little town of Mineral Point. The sun has finally hidden its face bringing an end to the warm humid day. A cool breeze is a welcomed relief.

In the kitchen, Grandma removes her apron and hangs it on a hook in the pantry. As she does every evening at this time, she heads for her favorite sitting spot... the big wooden rocker on the screened porch.

I watch her get settled as I sit cross-legged on the wicker loveseat while putting the finishing touches on my Magic Slate drawing. She is my most favorite person in the whole wide world. With child-like wonder, I watch her. How can she just sit there, doing nothing, saying nothing, just rocking? Isn't she bored? And my wonder intensifies as I see a faint smile appear on her face.

When I am eighty-two,
my hair will have lost its luster...
And I may wear the same dress three days in a row.

The big old wooden rocker
will be my sanctuary...

And I will sit for hours with my memories vividly painted on my eyes.

Loneliness may be my only company,
relentlessly holding me in its grasp.

But still...
I'll remember you...
and smile.

P.S. The old house is still standing on Fountain Street, but it saddens me to see that the porch has been removed. So many memories were birthed on that screened porch.

When people live to be very old, let them rejoice in every day of life. But let them also remember that the dark days will be many. ~ Ecclesiastes 11:8