By Louie Ferrera

Carol and I dropped our daughter Denali off at college last week. It was a momentous occasion and a watershed day in our lives. I don’t think Denali was able to fully grasp the enormity of this moment but Carol and I were hyper-aware of its importance. It was a bittersweet day for sure. I was so happy for our daughter and bursting with pride over everything she’s accomplished in order to get to where she is today. But I also felt sadness and a sense of loss. Denali would most likely never again live in our home full time.

Since Denali graduated high school in June, I’ve been doing lots of reflecting back, each memory a snapshot of a moment in her life. Long before I began publishing my essays in this blog, I dabbled a bit with writing stories for children, one of which recounts one of those snapshots: a special morning that Denali and I used to share when she was just a toddler. The other day I went back and reread that story, took its essence and completely rewrote it. Here it is. 

Rocking Chair

Dawn is trying really hard to break, its pale light barely illuminates our bedroom. My wife Carol is asleep beside me, our cat Bugsy a black and white ball of fur in the crook of her legs. I’m drifting somewhere between the dream I was lost in and the new day that’s just beginning. That’s when I become aware of a presence at my side of the bed. “Daddy, I want to go in the rocking chair” you whisper. I peel the covers off, swing my feet over the side of the bed, gather you into my arms and down the hall we shuffle towards the living room. My feet make a soft swish, swish sound against the carpet, your head rests on my shoulder, your tiny arms are wrapped around the back of my neck.

I plop down onto the rocking chair with you in my lap. This rocking chair doesn’t really rock like the classic chair with curved runners affixed to the bottom, rather it moves forward and backwards on hinges.  For extra warmth I cover us with your favorite quilt, handmade especially for me by the grandparent of a former first grade student of mine. This is a county fair, blue ribbon quality piece of art decorated with motifs of musical notes and instruments.

Light slowly begins to fill the room. With sunrise on the way, the promise of a new day is before us. Color needs light however so right now everything appears in varying shades of pre-dawn grey, adding a dream-like quality to the scene. The soft hum of the furnace and the squeak, squawk as we move back and forth in the rocking chair are the only sounds. Some mornings we share a bowl of crunchy breakfast cereal while I read you a story but today is simply a “snuggle up together and listen to the quiet” kind of morning.  You’ve got your favorite pajamas on, the ones with feet and pictures of kittens on them. Your body is soft and warm next to mine, your long auburn hair smells of the baby shampoo from last nights bath. After a few minutes I hear your breathing change and notice that you’ve fallen back to sleep.

I cherish these morning with you and savor each moment knowing full well that in the blink of an eye you’ll be grown up and about to strike out into the world on your own. But right now the world has shrunken and everything is exactly as it should be while we’re together here in the rocking chair.