Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Rocking Chair



Sometimes lately, since my dad died, I feel lonely. I don't exactly know how this loneliness is related to his death, but it is somehow.

The other night I spent some time thinking about it, and I put my mind to what would make me feel better. This beautiful photograph of my grandfather and me came to mind. I remember sitting in his lap while he sang "Red River Valley" and I felt so comforted.

A few days ago, I was missing my dad like crazy after accidentally (are there accidents like this?) playing a message from him on my voice mail. In my workroom, I have a rocking chair that was my grandfather's, and I went down and sat in it and rocked for a while. Again, I felt comforted.

I have lots of people around me, physically and symbolically, so it doesn't make sense that I would feel alone. I'm pondering it from the vantage point of the rocking chair.

6 comments:

Ally said...

HEY MAMIE!!

Feeling lonely can be quite a burden on us sometimes. It's nice to keep things around in our lives that soften the loneliness, like your grandfather's rocking chair.

For me, Christmas trees have always filled my soul with warmth and comfort, and brought a smile to my face. So, after this past holiday season, I decided to keep our tree up. It's still standing proudly in the corner of our living room. When I'm feeling off-kilter or less than perfect, sitting in the living room and admiring the twinkling glow of the Christmas tree makes me feel more at ease. Sure, it might be odd, but it makes me feel happy inside.

ROCK on, Mamie!!

P.S. - The picture of you and your grandfather is absolutely PRECIOUS!!

mamie said...

Ally, Just yesterday I was talking to a friend whose mother has Christmas trees all over the house all year long. Now I get it! :)

Anonymous said...

I think it actually makes perfect sense that you would feel alone. I believe you had simply entered that hole that was left by the loss of your father. No matter how many others are around who love you, no one can fill that particular space. I know I feel that way- no one would ever fill the void left when my father died. But the aloneness was eased by the touch of something close to him or his memory - the rocking chair. When I touch something my Dad made, it does that for me. So, it's just me and my Dad - except he's not here...

mamie said...

What kinds of things did your dad make, Anon? My father didn't make things, but he wrote a lot of words. I feel close to him when I read them.

Greta said...

Hey, Mamie, maybe it's as simple as you've found your own way to comfort yourself. Yes, it could be described in more complicated ways: auditory ("hearing" your gf sing Red River Valley), kinesthetic (the rocking motion). Bottom line is you have found some comfort for yourself. Now you have me hearing my eldest brother singing Big Rock Candy Mountain to my sister (also deceased) and me! Thanks.

mamie said...

Greta, I love the idea that my post raised the same kind of comfort about your brother. The song association is wonderful. Big Rock Candy Mountain...loved that song myself.