Porch Swing

My House will have a swing on the front porch.

I’ve been telling myself this for years. I want one of those big bench swings. Maybe not my first house, but the one I buy with my husband and raise my babies in will have a swing. The house that will stay in my family for generations to come will have a swing.

My grandparent’s house has a big front porch and a big swing. Many summers were spent as a child taking breaks from our make-believe games on that swing. Plenty of bowls of homemade ice cream were eaten on that swing. Many Sundays pretending not to pay attention to the grown-ups conversations as I rocked back and forth.

Fast forward to my adolescence. I spent a summer helping my grandfather rehabilitate from a stroke, and where did we relax? The big swing on the porch. We had BRenee’s writing class everyday and he couldn’t stand me, but once we got out on that swing there was no more stroke, no more pain, no more rehab. Just Grandaddy and his baby girl.

High school years were filled with tension, hate and plenty of praying for an escape; a place of peace. That peace came as paper and pen. I can’t count how many sunny days I spent writing on that porch. On that swing.

Now that I’m away from home, I don’t have the security of that porch, but I do have the memory. I go back to that swing occasionally when life is attempting to get the best of me, and even though I’m not there physically, It’s still as soothing as the first day I remember climbing on.

My house. My Home.

Where I will raise my children.Where I will grow old with the love of my life.

My house will have a big porch. On that porch there will be a swing.

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