My grandparents had a porch swing in their backyard in the country. I always wanted one for our home. Finally I was able two years ago to find one study enough to last more than a season. Our neighborhood is littered with falling apart porch swings, casualties of New England winters. This one lost it first canopy to an unusually early heavy snowfall before we had brought the canvas inside. I found this replacement one and remember to take it and the cushions in before bad weather.
I had an idyllic fantasy of sitting on the swing having deep heart to hearts with my grandchildren. One of them prefers to chin himself on one of the support beams.(Good thing it’s sturdy.) The other doesn’t like to sit still having heart to hearts. The one time I suggested it to her, she looked at me quizzically. “Is that what you did with your grandmother?” Well, no. Come to think of it, my grandmother was so tired in the evening after being surrounded by the four of us she just wanted to sit.
It welcomes me when I sit down, gently swing and continue deep heart to hearts. With myself!