The Journey Begins...

Short Stories - THE WOODEN ROCKING CHAIR

I didn’t realize how fast my steps were while I was trying to escape the cold. I didn’t know where I was going until I stood in front of the door. I realized I had unconsciously chosen the house of memories to protect me from the bad weather. I entered the house which was in complete darkness. Dust was everywhere and it looked like witches’ doom castles from children’s fairy tales.  I found myself walking towards the old wooden rocking chair. I was looking for what held a special spot in my heart. Finally I found it in the corner of one of the small rooms.

            I smiled instantly at the sight of that chair which suffered all kinds of memories…Happy, sad, cheerful, and childish. I suddenly remembered my grandfather. That was the same chair he sat on while he was grading students’ essays. Sometimes, he placed me on his lap as he graded those papers. During his later life, He leaned on its wooden curved arms in order to drop off all the burdens of the tiring day. I looked at the chair’s worn out fabric and I could still see the marks of my grandfather’s elbows.

            I sat on the chair and started remembering my grandfather during his last days when he rocked it back and forth as he listened to music. He was sick but he had never allowed himself to lose sense of time and enjoyed every minute of his remaining days. During his afternoon tea breaks he took it with him to the garden. He never wanted to miss the sunset. It was the time when he leaned his notepad and old brown pen against the arm of the chair and wrote his poems. I didn’t know what poetry meant at that age, but I loved it because he wrote it.

            I suddenly noticed the sewing machine that was beside the chair and a smile found its way on my lips. I smiled at the memory of my grandfather waking up in the morning and finding my grandmother sitting on the chair. She was happy that she stole it from my grandfather as she sat on such a comfortable chair to sew his shirts. I was watching with admiration as the two of them teased each other lovingly about the wooden chair.

            Unexpectedly I heard the thunder which woke me up from my happy memories. Rain was sifting through the cracks of the roof. As I saw the rain falling on the chair, I remembered all the tears that were shed on that same chair…It suddenly looked sad to me. I remembered that on one rainy night, that chair was where my grandfather gave his last breath. There on the wooden rocking chair my grandmother sat every night wiping her tears. Sad images occurred to my head at that instant and I started finding my way back to the door. With one last glimpse of the abandoned castle, I said goodbye to my childhood memories of the wooden rocking chair.