As a child, I loved the sunroom at my grandmother’s house.  I remember sitting with my head in her lap and my feet in the glider across from us.  She’d play with my hair as we both let our selves be completely enveloped by the sun’s rays.
Back.
and forth.
Back.
and forth.
Back.
and forth we would sway.  
And I was warm, inside and out.  
I imagine she was, too.

Now those same gliders sit on my porch. Metal rusted, fabric faded.  For years I’ve great plans for them.  Great intentions…but every time I would head to the store, something would get in the way.  I wonder if I’ve been subconsciously putting it aside, wanting to preserve a part of her.

But today I walked outside to find this:

And realized that it’s time.

For new paint,

new fabric,

new memories.