"Day" 2 - Grandpa's Chair

I see him, in my mind's eye, sitting there at the kitchen table like every day before reading his newspaper, drinking his coffee, and smoking his Winston.  The radio is softly playing in the background, turned to some county station that I am sure no longer flows on the radio waves.  The faint smells from the pot of coffee brewed earlier in the morning, while the rest of the house slept peacefully.  The gentle hum of the fridge that was undoubtedly older than I was, at the time. The roll top desk nestled against the north facing wall, under the sliding window, the telephone hanging prominently on the wall to the right of it.  The desk surfaces covered in an organized chaos that only made sense to the one person who managed its contents, my grandpa.

Grandpa was a good man, strong yet soft at the same time.  He loved us all, but I find a small bit of comfort in knowing him longest.  I also weep at that fact for it made many more memories to hold.  I'll never forget the sunny day during 5th grade when grandma and grandpa got their new table set.  You see, I had stayed home "sick" that day, as I often did to get more time with grandma (she spoiled me relentlessly).  I could feel the excitement grandma had when the new oak set was delivered and how concerned grandpa was that us grand kids would mark it up with our crayons.  I couldn't wait to sit in those glossy brown chairs for the first time, it was almost too much for my 10 year self to handle. 

The years have faded those chairs now and the table is long gone.  You see, I got that set when grandpa passed in 1999.  His table and his chairs.  I have several photos of my own children playing at and on grandpa's table, but like a lot of things, time took its toll and we needed a new one.  I refused to get rid of the chairs though, but being without sufficient space had to place a couple in the garage.  Sadly, 13 years in the "out-of-doors" reduced them to kindling.  However, I still have 2 chairs.  There is the one at my craft desk, sitting there calling me to come and put forth some effort to the scrapbook layout I started a few months ago.  Regretfully, its main use as of late has been to hold up my box fan. 

Then there is this chair.  The one I sit in the most.  My favorite one in the whole house.  I think of it as the one grandpa sat at, day after day.  It is old and creaky and has been glued and fixed many, many times, but can't part with it.  Not yet.  Its my comfort zone, this chair.  It is strong and soft, like grandpa.  I sit here to type, to waste time on the Internet, to read a book, to drink my coffee and listen to the radio in the background, to watch the goings-on in my house, hoping that someday, maybe, my girls will remember this chair and have memories of it too.

Grandpa's Chair


I miss you grandpa.

Love, M

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