Walking into my grandparents home brought back a flood gate of memories. The kitchen, where my grandmother baked and cooked the best food; from fried chicken and baked potatoes, to crisp apple pie. She created aromas that would settle in all the rooms of the house. The backyard, the door placed right behind the kitchen, I would always run around and play with my grandpa. He would run and chase after me, while my grandmother sat on the grass or tended to the rose garden. I remember the times I would hide from my grandpa in the rose bushes and grandma would get so made she would start running and chasing after me too. The living room, in the winter my grandparents and I would sit around the fire, drinking hot chocolate and eating warm banana bread, the blankets spread all around. The house was full of laughter and light during those nights.
My favorite place in the house was situated in the corner of the living room where the wooden rocking chair took up residents. I cross the living room and walk over to the chair, I sit down and all I feel a presence settle over me. I close my eyes and I remember the times I would sit with my grandfather in his rocking chair and we read for hours, the classics, I learned how to read with my grandfather in this chair and I haven’t stopped reading since. I rubbed my hands down the chair arms willing more memories to come.
“ I can remember the times you were so little, we used to sit right in this chair and read and read and read, we would read the day away. Those are the memories I cherish the most,” My grandfather's voice greeted my ears, a smile grew on my face.
“ Yes, I remember that grandpa, I was so young, remember the time we read black beauty and I begged you for a horse afterward,” I replied picturing my pleading face at 5 years old, I begged on my hands and knees to my grandfather, right in the spot in front of the rocker.
“ You have grown into quite the young lady, beautiful, kind-hearted, strong, smart… “ I laughed at that, always so proud of me.
“ Grandpa, you always tell me that!” I could hear the smile in my grandfather's voice as we sighed.
“ Because I always knew you would grow into a special women,”
I swallowed hard, guilt was starting to sweep into my mind. After I completed High School, my grandparents were put toward the back of my mind. They became a holiday only family member. I would tell them i was too busy to come by, I had a life to live, other things were more important.

“ I’m sorry I stopped coming to read with you, I’m so sorry,” My voice cracked, choking on sobs. “ It’s okay child. I will always be close, open your eyes sweetheart, “ I opened my eyes and there was no one standing by me.
“ I’m always in your heart,” I put my hand to my heart and felt a warmth spread all over. He would always be with me right here.
“ Maggie, it’s time sweetheart,” My grandma hobbled in, she wore all black ready for the funeral.
“ Yes, I suppose it is,” I stood from the rocker, smoothed out my dress. I walked over, grabbed my grandma’s hand and squeezed it tight. She gave me a sad tight smile, tears barely coming to the surface.
“ You were our pride and joy and we will both always love you,” she proclaimed and then nodded to the rocker, “ he most of all,”
The backyard looked like it never had before. There lay a casket right in the middle, the man who chased me around was now about to lay in the ground. Picnics would now be laid on him instead of with him, my children would run on him instead of with him. The rocker in the living room would be our only reminder of the man who was. As we laid my grandfather to rest I vowed to teach my children what he taught me, a rocker builds more memories than the rest of the world ever will.
I turned to my grandma, “ Will you read with me,”
She looked with tears softly rolling down her porcelain face, “ I would love that,”
I looked toward the sky whispered “ I love you,” turned and walked back into the memory filled house, toward the rocker in the living room where we once held our winter sleepovers, and read for hours on end.