“That Story Lady”

Angela Scott, Author – Storyteller – Ventriloquist

Love Is Foundation for a Miniature Platform Rocking Chair

February 24, 2012

It was a gift from a previous colleague and friend. “This antique rocking chair was the first gift my wife gave to me when we married…” He had been promoted and his career required relocation to another state. “We just don’t have room to take it with us and we know you’ll appreciate it.”

Thankful to have been the recipient of such a valued treasure, reality struck. “This rocking chair needs a lot of love and work, which would include re-upholstering as well as refinishing the wood. When dad first saw the chair, he paused. “I hope they paid you to haul it away…” It was the truth, albeit brutal, and then he smiled.

Dad and I began our joint venture the next week. It proved to be an extensive project of work requiring incalculable hours. Several weeks later, family and friends enjoyed the new and improved antique rocking chair. It was comfortable beyond words. Someone always found time to rest in the classic rocking chair.

The corduroy cover on the seat cushion resembled the color of mink that faded with use until it was beyond time to repair it again. Thankful to remember that dad had a friend who specialized in upholstery, the friend agreed without hesitation to restore the antique.

Only a few months later, dad died. His death devastated my tiny daughter. Afterward, when chatting with dad’s upholstery friend, he offered to craft a miniature platform rocking chair for my daughter. He wanted to give her a tangible memory that represented her grandfather’s love as well as the friendship our families shared.

A few tears welled in the eyes of dad’s friend as he gently placed his hand over his heart. Emotion filled his words. “I have a few leftover remnants of the fabric used for your rocking chair… I’ll craft a miniature platform rocking chair for your daughter. It’ll be like a matched set. It’s for your dad, too.

Less than seven years of age, she enjoyed playing in the chair; however, several years would go by before she’d be able to comprehend the gift’s magnitude. She loved her grandfather; he loved her, too. On the birthday she celebrated with him before his death, he’d told me how grateful he was for the time he’d been given to spend with her “Pa-poo.”

Dad’s friend told me the fabric that covered her child-sized platform rocking chair was sturdy and durable enough to last a long time. He reassured me with a smile and a few words. “It’s so tough, gravy won’t stick to it!”

His eyes brightened when I asked if he’d autograph a 3 x 5 index card to commemorate the gift. “Of course! Write what you want remembered. I’ll sign and staple it underneath the chair to one of its wooden foundational supports.”

Recently, I was reminded of that signed index card. It was a tender, sweet reminder of dad, his love, and his life. The card remained in tact even though it’s been almost 20 years since it’d been stapled to the foundation of the miniature platform rocking chair that was custom-made for her.

Mom says it best. “It’s the little things that matter the most.”




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