The Wooden Chair

There was an old wooden chair in my grandmas kitchen, chipped at the edges, and it

rocked just a bit when you sat in it. Anyone else would have thrown it out years ago, but not

me. While I remember, I can still see my grandmother sitting in the kitchen every morning,

humming softly while the smell of biscuits filled the house. Cooking all the family meals

because she insisted while I watched. She never used a recipe just a little of this and a

handful of that, so I watched carefully. Now when I cook for the family they say it tastes just

like Grandmas.

I kept that chair it was where my children sat when they were small and now my

grandchildren as well. While I remember, The chair always made a creaky sound, like it was

speaking in its own way. This chair is special. Wounds were tended in this chair, secrets

were shared in this chair and mostly time passed in this chair. One day the kitchen where

the chair sat was empty. Grandma is gone now, I am all grown up. I don't fit in the chair

anymore, but I keep it.

Life has been and still is special I have the gift of growing old and I still remember so I keep

the chair.

WHAT DO YOU KEEP? WHAT MAKES YOU REMEMBER?