Sacred Objects

The structural engineer declared our house sound.  He also gently suggested the slight sag in our bedroom floor could be eased by lightening the attic load. 

Mel and I both want to clean out the attic which is stuffed with old life vests, holiday mugs, a turn table, 2 Monopoly sets, a penguin lamp, a wooden duck, a food grinder, 60s T.V. trays, and much much more.

Yesterday I learned that Laurie, whose baby was due last Wednesday, did not have a rocking chair, and so I was very happy to pull ours out of the attic for a worthy cause.  Mel and I bought the chair when our son was just a few weeks old, and since he was the orneriest non-sleeper, he and I spent MANY hours in it - him nursing and me reading novels, or just kissing and sniffing his head.

I didn't tell Laurie, but there is a little milk stain on the chair.  How could I give the rocker to a stranger when it had this precious mark that had passed between my son's mouth and my body?  Laurie and I were both happy with the exchange - she for getting a free chair and me for giving the sacred artifact to someone I hold in affection. 

The little guy that I used to rock in the chair is going away to college this fall, and I still kiss his head when I have a chance, now through a massive red afro.  And I still give it a little sniff sometimes as well.