Tonight I got to keep the baby, but she was unhappy until I took her out to the porch swing. She immediately calmed down. Back.....creak.....forth.....creak.....back.....creak.....forth......creak. The pattern was mesmerizing to her and to me. The old swing was lolling that baby into a slumber that nothing other than her mother could provide.
I remember Grandma Dawkins' old swing, just to the right of the front door. One, or was it two, of the slats were broken on one end so the lucky kids would crowd up next to Grandma to swing (the safer side), but that always left somebody having to set on the broken part. Grandma was a nature lover so many discussions were held on that porch swing. We would swing for hours watching the birds bring bits of straw, string, or anything that could possibly make for a good nest at the top of the corner pillars. We'd wait for---ev---er to hear the little birds chirping when the momma bird would bring food to drop in their little mouths. Oh, the good times, the memories...............memories of a great childhood.
As I swung tonight, I recalled my older two grandchildren swinging just like our new little baby. Each infant had their time cuddling with Nana on that swing. As the boys got older they'd beg me to go higher and faster until old Nana was almost seasick. They loved it if the swing could hit the back wall. No doubt the baby will soon want to go faster and faster. Yes, the old swing is a keeper. Some day the kids might want to bring their babies to swing on Nana's swing.
There's no doubt that Grandma would use that swing every day even if we were not there. Air conditioning was unheard of so an afternoon on the swing created a pleasant breeze. I sure wish I had her old swing, but no doubt even if I had gotten it way back when, it would have rotted away by now. I'd love to swing another afternoon on her old swing, but only with her.
I love you.
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