The Magic Rocking Chair

Grandma Rocking ChairWhen my grandmother died I was devastated because we were so close.  In her will, she left me her favorite rocking chair that she always sat in.  She said when she used the chair it helped get all her worries and concerns out of her system.  She loved that old rocking chair and I don’t think I ever visited her without seeing her sit in that old chair. She always told me, “When I die, baby girl, this old rocker will be yours.  It is a magic chair and you can sit and rock away all your worries and concerns that you are having.  It will work every time and keep you worry free. You just sit and rock and rock and those old worries will just go away.”  

After the reading of the will all the other grandchildren raced to her house to gather all the antiques they could steal.  They were a greedy lot.  I was left the rocker.  I guess grandma didn’t tell them it was a magic chair or else they would have stolen it too.  I figured they would strip everything from the house including everything on the walls.  There were some other things left as they weren’t valuable, but you can bet that all the antiques where taken.  I didn’t care.  I just wanted that old magic rocker.

Did I believe that it was a magic chair?  Yes, when I was a child, but since I am now grown I figured that it was just an old chair that soothed my grandmother and to her that was magic.

I found the perfect place for that “magic” chair.  I put it next to my fireplace.  It looked good there and had a place of honor in my house.  I would love that old rocker because it was my grandmother’s favorite chair.

That night after getting ready for bed I took one last look at the rocker.  It made me feel good to know that it was here in my house.  Maybe it was a magic chair after all.

During the night I woke up from an odd sound in my house.  I was hearing that creak of the old rocker.  That creak was there whenever my grandmother rocked.  I got up and looked in the living room and that chair was rocking all by itself.  No one was in that chair.  It was just as if my grandmother was sitting in it.  I didn’t know what to make of it.  When I was at my grandmother’s house it comforted me knowing that my grandmother was in her chair watching over me.  Now what would I do?  It was rocking and no one was there.  To tell you the truth, it really scared me.

I went back to bed thinking about what to do.  Could I live with the ghost of a chair?  Or was my grandmother in that chair?  Maybe that chair really was magic and it rocked by itself.  I never saw it do that at my grandmother’s house.  But then I never really saw the rocker empty.

I finally fell asleep and I think that old rocker just lulled me to sleep.  It was kind of magic in the way it comforted me into a dreamless night.  I don’t know if I was so tired because I hadn’t slept much since my grandmother died and I was exhausted or it was the rocking of that chair.  I may never know.

The next morning upon waking the chair wasn’t rocking any more.  I got ready to go to the office and didn’t think much about it.  I worked the full day at the office and when I came home the chair still wasn’t rocking.  Did I just dream it?  Maybe I was just really tired and dreamed that the chair was rocking by itself.  At least that is what I was telling myself.

That night while getting ready for bed the phone rang.  It was my mother telling me that my father had now passed away.  He had died of a heart attack and his mother’s death just did him in.  This was my grandmother’s only son.  I couldn’t believe it.

As I was getting dressed again to go to the hospital to be with my mother I heard the rocking chair start to rock.  Then I knew it was rocking because my grandmother was in that chair as I could hear the sobbing…

______________________________________________________________________________

Thanks again, Mom!

3 thoughts on “The Magic Rocking Chair

  1. Jodi Brown Campbell

    Good story. Thank you for sharing.
    My grandmother hugged me to sleep the night she died, with a sweet floral smell in the room. When we went to her funeral, the smell I kept telling my mother I could smell again was the scent of the roses my parents had sent tagged, “Grandma”. They were Peace Roses, according to the Florist, and they indeed gave me a sense of peace.
    I have been able to sense the departed for many years, and have had premonitions since I was very young. It at times can be scary, but when it is from a loved one, it is so welcomed.

    Reply

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