Sentimental

“Sentimental.”

 One definition is:  Of or prompted by feelings of tenderness, sadness or nostalgia.

 Yup that’s me.

One example is of my overnight camp years. Having attended Camp Matoaka for 10 summers as a camper and a counselor, I have accumulated memories and friendships that will last a lifetime. Fortunately, there are many others who are just as eager to relive those days, and it doesn’t take but a photo of a loon on Facebook to trigger a slew of memories.  Now that my children bleed camp (Tel Noar), I can experience the excitement first hand once again.

I am also sentimental when it comes to my children, who are now 15 and 12 years old. They are old enough to have memories of when “they were little,” as they say. We have more than a dozen movies of their childhood which we still love to watch. Although I didn’t keep every bib or blanket, there are a few items which are difficult for me to part with.

 One of those items is books, some of which were mine growing up. I can look at a book, let’s say, “Harry By the Sea,” and remember when I would read that to them. If it is good shape, and most of them are, then I feel we should save it for their own kids, my grandchildren.  School work is another problem area for me, especially for large projects or artwork. I figure they worked so hard on it, how can I just toss it? Maybe I don’t keep every single paper, but I have my fair share of worksheets, drawings and reports.

There is one item which I know I have kept too long. It didn’t really match the décor, and I haven’t used in a many years, but that sentimental value was overpowering.

The item is a white glider rocking chair.

That rocking chair accompanied me through midnight and daily feedings, hours of storytime, giving medicine and cuddling away sadness. I used to sing a song to each of the kids before bed, which recounted what they did during the day.  We took pictures of the kids on that chair. Then they used to climb on it to read a book once in a while too.

Have I sat in said rocking chair in the last two years? Five years? No. But it was there and represented a time in my life which I didn’t want to give up easily. I think Brad would have given it up years ago, but he knows me well enough to even ask. So when I recently told him I wanted to give it to any of the several people in my office who recently had a baby or are going to have one soon, he said calmly, “That would be nice.” What he was really thinking was, “It’s about time.”

When I asked one man in my office, who recently became the father of twins, if he would like the chair, he responded with a resounding “Yes!” almost before I finished asking. Then and there I knew this was the right choice. He picked it up yesterday. 

Why am I now able to give away this sentimental piece of furniture? Although I will never forget the past, and I might even dwell in it too long sometimes, I know there is so much for us in the future.  I am on the verge of aging into a new decade. The kids are growing into amazing adults. I have a terrific husband. We still have both sets of parents and lots in the way of family and friends.  I love my job, and I can still wield a tennis racquet better than the average bear. My present tense is “rockin’.”

There is a void in the corner of my bedroom, and I will think of that rocker for a few more days. But I can also picture my friend feeding his children, reading stories and making wonderful memories, just like I did.