I have very vivid memories riding on my grandfather's rocking chair. I remember spending a lot of time on it as if it were a carnival ride. I knew it so well, how it felt, which spoke was loose, the shake-y armrest, and the bump on its left rocker that prevented it from swinging smoothly. It holds much of my childhood and will always be a wonderful reminder of my grandparents.
This rocking chair was given to my grandfather for his retirement from the Philippine Air Force in 1971. He was a fighter pilot.
Being exactly 40 years old, it has been through a lot as seen on its peeling paint, a makeshift splint for its arm, and nails bored here and there to hold everything in place.
Last week, I took it home from my grandparents' house since it had just been sitting in the bodega. For some reason, it reminds me very much of the Skin Horse in The Velveteen Rabbit and I just want to hug and take care of it. And talk to it.
Do you ever feel like that?