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Story Forum Index -> Emotional Lesbian Stories

The Porch Swing

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DanceofSorrows



Joined: 29 Aug 2004
Posts: 2837
The Porch Swing

What may seem petty to others on the outside most often runs deeper. Everything runs deeper...



The Porch Swing.


The front porch faced east, slightly canopied by the thick branches of an older elm tree in front of the house. The street was lined with trees from one end of the block to another. In the winter after a plush snow fall, the morning and eves would idle at the glistening white, pure white branches. I gave birth to a baby boy, cried over being 6 months too late in meeting my own father, prepared for life as a homemaker and took in my mom and sister in their temporary housing need.

Near my one year anniversary date, my mom and I went shopping. I fell in love with the green, steel porch swing. She smiled. I smiled. The porch swing came home with us wrapped in warm anniversary wishes and instructions for assembly although 4 screws and bolts hardly seemed complicated. It was a time in life where everything seemed easier to put together except for a few pieces here and there. My mom joined me in a slow, rocking swing...we joined the neighborhood eying the beds of tulips next door and waved at the old woman across the street. The neighborhood joined the world as the east wind blew rustling green leaves in the symphony of the Earth's breath.

My son was the first climber of its steel bars with the ability to ignore grandmas built-in (first grandchild's paranoia) and claim king of the swing. By the time my daughter came around, we discovered the major source of bruised knees was swinging too close to white, painted banister bordering the porch. 'Not too high' was echoed more than any other verbal warning.

There was always movement, even in the still of night or the cold or the heat or the silence of imaginations for tomorrows. Even when life was at a standstill in a shell floating on routine, one could feel the rhythm of movement matching internal dreams and hopes on the front porch. There was movement in the stirring of emotions as I wrapped my baby boy or girl in a blanket and rocked them to sleep in the fresh air. There was movement even when there wasn't much to say (or with need to say) as my best friend Donna and I rocked back and forth with a glass of ice tea in our hands.

I pause at this writing caught in memories and emotions. We sold the house seven years later and I bought a condo. My marriage was over, Donna died of cancer, my lump in the breast was benign, the world was still in the shaking repercussions of 9/11, and I was still battling through the slumps of a double depression. Within the first 4 months on my own with two children, the ceiling drywall in the kids bedroom crashes down. It would take another 5 months for the other bedroom ceiling to show its deterioration, splitting right down the middle. The old lady next door condo was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and could no longer take care of herself.

One year later my mom bought her first home ever, right next door to me. She had a 12x12 patio poured outside her front door. Her and my sister decorated the exterior with flowers as the kids ran from my front door to hers grabbing popsicles out of the freezer. We placed my swing on her patio and I joined my mother in a slow, rocking swing...we joined the neighborhood slapping mosquitoes on our legs and laughing at Sam (my golden retriever/lab) jumping up at the water squirting from the hose.
The neighborhood joined the world as the waves of humidity sauntered down on rooftops and air conditioning units hummed from backyard to backyard. Then she got sick. Two years later my sister got married, my mother died, my dog Sam died two days later after my mom. I sat on the porch swing a lot, alone.

We sold the condo to a teacher and her husband and his father in law. What had accumulated in my garage from the first year to then mimicked a storage facility with dusty boxed full of old stuffed animals and sentimental crayon pictures unfolded in the box. Add bikes, books, tools, a 2 foot plastic swimming pool etc etc and forget about ever getting the car back in. I had no where to put the swing.
Reluctantly, I gave the swing to the father in law.

Summers past, what started out as a comfortable relationship with the neighbor took a turn for the worst. Things changed when the husband found out about my orientation but it wasn't obvious until later the reason. A first it was about the little patch of grass by my front door that never grew in the first place, he yelled at me for that telling me he didn't want to look at it all year. Though to be fair, I also had to learn how to put up the dog shit better but that was resolved. One has to learn new ways in a condo after living on your own land. Then it became about my crab apple tree by my window. I realized that nothing outside is really your own when the tree was cut down. I was heartbroken, I loved that tree...it made my living room feel like a loft and we always decorated it in the winter around Christmas. It also gave us shade from the western sun. Before long, the invasion of boundaries were unbearable though he felt/feels entitled to it. The bitterness began between us. I called the police after he threatened to beat the crap out of me and that is when he revealed his true bias, “Since you are the man in the relationship” he shouted. I do not look like a man.

I watched them merge their existence into my memories as they sat on the swing rocking a piece of my history in mockery. Many of times I thought about stealing it back but I couldn't. It burned me, this constant effort of the husband trying to bully me into a corner, unseen, unheard, boxed inside my own little space quietly from his disgust as the wheel on the swing slightly squeaked with his motion. These emotions took me by surprise. That feeling of 'unresolve' moaned in my senses. The house is theirs, I sold it to them, there was no ghostly conflict within that except for regret. But the swing...this sense of its belonging was too ingrained by all the good in my life, the people I have shared it with who have now passed and the motion of memories rocking on the seat of my history, my past. I shouted inaudibly, 'You don't deserve this' as I watched him sway against the wind within his pride of hatred on the very gift given from my mother best wishes for me, and from her love.

Yesterday, I spoke to the father in law and simply said, 'I want the swing my mother gave me back.' The father in law has honor, he is a good man. I made no attempt to explain. I made no demand other than simply asking for it back at the mercy of things you just can't explain to people, or why. Yesterday I got it back. The husbands wife spoke to the curious nosy, neighbor after watching me transferring the swing to my garage....that same neighbor who invited me to 'church' and hadn't really spoken to me since in depth after I declined. We put it in from of the garage facing the wooded area across the street. My daughter got her book, laying the back of her head on my lap as I slowly rocked back and forth as she read the words aloud. The most profound sense of resolve and contentment washed over me and the light shone in my eyes. We swayed for hours and hours. The air was light and jubilant, the perfection of the day trickled through my veins. The husband came home and gave a mockery laugh at me while walking past and I just sat there experiencing the power of a small prayer and the gift of goodness again through the father in law's act of kindness against his son in law's vile and controlling nature. I felt the gift of the heavens and my mom whispering, 'I am smiling.' And I smiled. I smiled so much neighbors walking down the street smiled and waved at us, people in cars drove past and smiled, Ten chapters were read in my daughters book, Crash, and I saw a little yellow bird fly into the horizon on the wind of the east winds....and my heart joined today and yesterday and tomorrow all at once.

Post Wed Aug 19, 2009 5:48 pm 
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PipSqueak



Joined: 04 Jul 2008
Posts: 987
Location: S.W. England


Thanks Dance, those swings are really special aren't they?!

Post Wed Aug 19, 2009 9:56 pm 
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DanceofSorrows



Joined: 29 Aug 2004
Posts: 2837


Thanks UK Smile

To me, the story is a metaphor for who has a seat in our lives and the choices we have with it.

Dance~

Post Mon Aug 24, 2009 2:15 pm 
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Allison



Joined: 12 Oct 2005
Posts: 4216
Location: Florida


Dance what a beautiful story.....so poetic and lovely. Those memories are so wonderful to cherish. Well done!!

Alli
_________________
Alli

Post Mon Aug 24, 2009 11:19 pm 
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DanceofSorrows



Joined: 29 Aug 2004
Posts: 2837


Allison,

This is one of those times out of many that I hurriedly checked email and said...ok I will reply to that later when I have time and then forgot lol. Hugs, thanks for your warm reply.

Dance~

Post Sun Sep 06, 2009 2:24 pm 
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