Originally posted on my old blog, on June 12 of 2012...If you walk into the living room of our humble home, you will notice a few things. The first thing you may notice is that handsome pronghorn antelope on the wall in one corner, followed by the beautiful ruffed grouse on the other side of the same wall. You will see our fairly new television, which serves to entertain my wife and daughters on a daily basis. Personally, I watch very little television and feel the women in my house should be watching old westerns and Andy Griffith reruns instead of “reality” TV, which has to be the fakest stuff ever produced.
The last thing you may notice in our living room is an old, brown recliner. It is “my” chair, the throne of my small castle. It is as old as I am and I am not its first owner. This old Lazy Boy recliner, which I am writing this from, used to belong to my grandfather. It was Gramp’s chair for many, many years and I grew up admiring this one piece of furniture above all else in my grandparent’s house (besides my grandparents, of course). My brother and I were welcome to sit in Grandpa’s chair if he wasn’t, but if he came into the room we knew to move ourselves to the couch or floor, which we did out of respect for Grandpa and with no argument whatsoever. I don’t recall Grandpa, Grandma or anyone else ever telling us we had to vacate their chairs when they entered the room. We just did it. As much as this is going to sound so cliché and exactly like something us old folks are expected to say, this is part of what’s wrong with today’s youth…less and less respect for their elders whether it be grandparents, teachers, police or whatever. I know that letting Grandpa or Grandma have their chairs when they came into the room served to teach us boys respect for an older generation and that’s why I require the same of my children, even as they grow into adulthood. My daughter has always known this was a rule in my house, but my stepdaughters had to get used to it when my wife and I were first married and I moved in. They didn’t like it at first, but they’ve learned well and I like to think they understand why it’s the right thing to do. I still to this day will get up and move if my grandparents want to sit in their chairs. It is respect that is due to them.
This old chair that I sit in doesn’t fit me. Those of you that have been “fitted” for a recliner before know full well what I mean. I look like a giant sitting in this thing, although I find it to be quite comfy. The cushion where you sit has been long broken in and the footrest is a bit too close for my long legs. Nonetheless, there is no place I would rather sit. Each time I sit here, I am flooded with memories of my wonderful, precious boyhood. Memories that seem as if they were centuries ago now. Memories that I wish I could relive, because I truly had a wonderful childhood.
I recall the many times that Gramps would be sleeping in his chair, or rather pretending to sleep, and we boys would sneak up from behind him. He would be reclined back with his feet up and his eyes shut, yet I’m sure he was aware of what was about to happen, and we would suddenly push down on the back of the chair and thus tip Grandpa backwards until he was on the floor. He would act surprised and a wrestling match would ensue, usually resulting in one or both of us boys in what Gramp’s called the Crow’s Nest (a wrestling move more commonly called a Scissors Hold). Oh what fun it was to wrestle with Grandpa on the floor while Grandma sat in her chair watching, with that loving smile and sparkle in her eye just knowing that her boys were having a good time.
I also remember the old CB that Grandpa had on a shelf beside his chair. There were numerous times when baby brother and I would get on the CB when nobody was looking, just to ask for a radio check. We really thought we were cool each time some trucker in the area replied that our radio was working fine.
Then there was the time when I, as a teenager, had a buddy over and we were watching a movie. Gramps was downstairs in the basement taking his evening shower and I was sitting in his chair. My friend, John, and I were watching the show when in came Grandpa walking from the basement to his bedroom, which took him right through the living room, in his birthday suit. Apparently, he had forgotten his pajamas in his bedroom and felt that we boys weren’t going to see anything that we hadn’t seen before. You have to know my Grandpa to really understand how very little of a shock that was to us. John and I still talk about that to this day, although we don’t see each other often anymore.
There is a picture of myself when I was a boy, sitting on Grandpa’s lap while he smokes a pipe, in this chair. I don’t remember that day, but I love that picture. It’s funny how nowadays anyone smoking with a kid in their lap is a horrible influence and is going to kill the kid. Sure, lots of secondhand smoke isn’t good, but an occasional pipe won’t hurt any more than drinking water from the garden hose instead of a plastic bottle will. Now that I own Grandpa’s old chair and one of his pipes, I have every intention of having a picture taken of myself smoking a pipe with my future grandson in my lap, critics be damned.
Yes, this chair holds lots of memories, a lot more than I could ever write about on this blog. They are memories that always make me smile and be thankful for such a wonderful childhood. My grandparents were and still are very special people to me. Without them, my boyhood would have been lacking many of the adventures that have made me the man I am today. Someday I’ll be a grandfather. I have no doubt that my future grandchildren and I will have many adventures, right here in this old chair.
Grandpa and Grandma…thanks for everything, and I do mean everything. From the trips to Canada to the times you let me cry on your shoulder, from replacing the clutch in my old Camaro to the homemade cookies, from being at Jacob’s funeral to taking us boys fishing, from giving me my first job to babysitting the daughter of a newly single father while he worked the late shift at the factory, from the many bottles and cans of Pepsi to being firm yet loving with a foolish drunk teenager, from the wrestling matches to the many hugs…and everything in between, thank you. You will never realize how much the love you’ve shown others, me included, has impacted future generations. You’re the greatest and I am an eternally grateful grandson.
And I really love this old chair.
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