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GG (Genevieve Grace), my granddaughter, calls this “Bubbe’s chair.” Little does she know how many hours I spent rocking her father (and both aunts) in a rocking chair. There is something soothing and relaxing about rockers. My children long ago outgrew being rocked to sleep, or soothed from some hurt in “Mommy’s lap” in a rocking chair. I’ve had a rocker in my home since I had my first child. When the movers arrived at our home to load the truck to move us to OH, I originally planned to have the rocker put in storage. While it sat in the middle of the bedroom as other furniture was systematically removed from the house, one of the movers, Ron, urged me to have a seat and rest; my work would continue long after they, the movers, were gone. I sat in the rocker, Pele in my arms, closed my eyes and began to rock. I felt my muscles relax and a calm descend as people scurried around me moving this and that. When it was time to load the rocking chair, I asked Ron to pack it with the things that were going into the apartment. Although our small apartment is a bit crowded now, the rocking chair stays. When all is in chaos, I sit, close my eyes, rock, and all is well with the world. I pray a lot sitting in this chair. The rocking motion helps me focus. I drink my morning coffee here, and sometimes I’ll read, or gently rock as I watch the lively natural world outside my window. My husband, too, likes to sit and rock as he fills me in on the events and adventures of his day. I don’t blame him because I know how comfortable it is. I also know that just like GG says, this is “Bubbe’s chair.” I am grateful for rocking chairs.


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  1. […] Gratitude 76: Rocking Chairs ( […]

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