As I was searching through the old house out back behind my in-law's (the little house that served as my high-school husband's bedroom), looking for some journals, my mother-in-law came in and took me up into the attic. Up beneath the old gable, hanging on the wall, were four tiny rocking chairs, each one belonging to a particular person. People who are now all grown up.
One of them belonged to my husband.
I looked at those four little chairs and imagined all the years they held sweet babies, rocking back and forth,...singing to their dolls, or shouting for their mama, or reading their favorite stories. I pictured my husband as he was back then, with his big bright eyes and the ears he eventually grew into, and felt tears burning in the corners of my eyes.
I looked at that little chair and imagined our own little baby. I looked at that chair as it hung on the wall and realized there is nothing ever truly lost or forgotten. We might put things away for a time, but they wait patiently for the next generation to come back around. They know that one day they'll serve their purpose once again.
I told my mother-in-law I wanted to have it, if I could, whenever Pierce and I have our own children. She looked over at me and said, "Well, you can have it right now if you want."
And I am thoroughly delighted to say it's coming home with me today. It's a little beaten up, but like the Velveteen Rabbit, that just shows how much it was loved on.
Hopefully one day it will get loved on some more.