History in these

Chairs.

Tonight I was sitting in the chair on the left, 

and Gary in the chair on the right.

We were visiting with our Home Teachers.

As we talked,

I looked closely at the chairs we were sitting in

and thought of their history.

They were in Mom and Dad's bedroom and

 set the stage for many hours of conversation.

Mom would sit in the left chair (by her window),

 and whoever was visiting with her in the right chair.

If Dad was there, which he usually was, 

he would sit on the bed.

Mom was, more often than not,

 doing some handwork

(crotcheting, cross stich, embroidery).

After Mom died, my Aunt Beth told me that

when she visited with Mom in the bedroom

(two days before she died),

that Mom was working on this

Twelve Days of Christmas runner for me.

For a long time I sentimentally kept the

needle threaded through

the cloth just where Mom had left it.

But, now I'm trying to work on it

and hopefully finish it someday.

I don't have the skill or

patience that Mom had for it, though.

I think I'm rambling a bit here,

but I guess it stems from the fact that

so many memories come from those chairs.

 Add Dad's painting on the wall behind the chairs

and the grandfather clock that he built,

and we've got a whole lot of history there.