The Big Blue Chair
The big blue chair came to us when we were a young, childless couple. Paul’s grandmother was downsizing, so we were offered the chair. We thought the comfy La-Z-Boy might come in handy someday, so we accepted it and stuck it in the spare room in our cozy little rented “twin”. Paul and I used to snuggle together in the big blue chair and watch movies on the 18-inch TV that also lived in the spare room.
When we discovered I was pregnant, the spare room became a nursery. We cleared out the spare room to make space for the crib and changing table, but the big blue chair stayed. I spent many a night nursing a sweet newborn by the light of the street lamp that spilled into the room through the slats in the blinds.
When we bought our first house, the big blue chair once again became a fixture in the nursery. The newborn grew into a talkative toddler. I would rock him in the big blue chair, singing lullabies and hymns, before putting him in his crib to go to sleep for the night. When I would tell him that it was time to get in his crib, he would beg for “one last more”. Song, that is. I always obliged.
When our second child came along, I once again spent many a night nursing an infant in the big blue chair. As she got older, I fell into the habit of rocking her to sleep at naptime. I remember those quiet afternoons when I would sit for a while after she had fallen asleep, rocking, gazing at her precious sleeping face, marveling at the mystery of a mother’s love.
Then the third child came along. We moved again when she was a month old. And, yes, the big blue chair came with us.
Another nursery. New decor. Same big blue chair. This child has spent, by far, the most time in the big blue chair. This is the child that loves to rock. Fortunately for her, both her mommy and daddy love it too. We may well be rocking her to sleep until she goes away to college!
It occurred to me the other day, while rocking in the big blue chair, of course, that when this baby graduates to a regular bed, and the nursery is converted to a little girl’s room, there will be no more babies to nurse and rock in the big blue chair. I had to fight a twinge of melancholy at the thought, but ready or not, time marches on, does it not?
And a new home awaits the big blue chair. Our basement that husband has been slowly transforming it into a rec room will be finished this summer (hopefully!) I have a feeling it will be the final resting place for the comfy old La-Z-Boy, better known as the big blue chair.