Reflections From a Porch Swing
Sometimes I can almost smell her in the air, especially when the honeysuckle vines are full. She loved the scent of honeysuckle and even managed to find it in a perfume that she dabbed behind her ears and on the inside of her wrists before she headed off to church. She was a country woman in every sense of the word and as much as she loved me, she never fully understood my need to do things like ride a motorcycle or travel to different states.
You may have guessed it already but I'm thinking of my grandmother again. I do that frequently and I always try to imagine what she would think of me these days. I can imagine her standing on the front porch in her floral house dress under a well worn apron given to her by one her many children or grandchildren. I never gave her aprons, to me that was not a personal gift, it was something to work with. I don't think I understood at that time how much work and pleasure were intermingled in her life.
I loved to sit on her front porch swinging the evenings away in a an old wooden swing hanging from rusted chains. I reflected on the world, or at least the world I had known at that point and the world I imagined to exist beyond the Appalachians while I made good use of that swing. There was no time to sit on the porch during the day, there was always something that needed to be done. There were seeds to plant, weeds to pull, meals to prepare, floors and clothes to be scrubbed, garden produce to bring in or canning to be done. I never minded helping her, in fact, I wish I had paid much closer attention to the things she did with such ease. At the end of the day, however, I wanted to be out there in the swing whether there was anyone else to sit me or not.
“Dianna,” she would say, “You should be doing something instead of swinging your evening away.”
Her idea of doing something and my idea of doing something were very different. She spent her “down time” in the evenings with a needle and thimble mending clothes or making out a store list or reading her Bible. She never seemed to run out of light and her eyes never seemed to tire when she was reading her Bible as she rocked either on the front porch if the weather was nice or in the front room if it was cold.
My idea of doing something was to take a walk along the creek bed maybe stopping to go skinny dipping by moonlight, or catching fireflies with a group of cousins, playing basketball with the “holler kids” or just hanging out with a girl friend talking about boys, school, movie stars, and of course, clothes.
Now, after having children of my own, I realize that she was trying to lead me by example. She wanted me to be a good woman, lead a good life, and most of all, become a good nurturer to my children and my family. It worked and I never even realized that I was learning along the way. I think I lead by example myself, even if I don't plan to do it that way.
I still remember how it felt to be there in that porch swing alone with my thoughts. I would close my eyes and really listen to my surroundings. The sounds of locusts, crickets and barn owls were comforting. I remember thinking about the people I wanted to notice me who never did, the people who wanted my attention but didn't get it, and the dreams I held for the future, as unrealistic as they were at the time.
I watched lightening storms that were more magnificent than any laser light show I've ever seen. I listened to thunder and watched rain travel through the valley until it was playing a melodic tune on the tin roof of my grandmother’s house, all from that front porch. That was probably the only time in my life that I had the good sense to listen more than I talked.
When the scent of honeysuckle floats on the air, I head out to my own front porch swing. My swing is one of the more modern metal frames with upholstered cushions to making sitting there more comfortable. I close my eyes and think of my youth, my family and all the things that are near and dear to my heart. Breathing in the warm summer air I am reminded that I am stronger than I ever thought I might be, I am a part of everything around me. I am filled with songs yet to be sung and the seasons that have already come and gone.
Closing my eyes, I can imagine my grandmother standing on my front porch still wearing a cotton house dress underneath an apron, a broom in one hand and a dust cloth in the other as she says to me, “Dianna, a pretty girl like you ought to take full advantage of your life.” She was about the only one who thought I was pretty back then when I was still awkward and not sure of anything about myself except that I was full of dreams. Taking full advantage of my life was mostly finding a good man, having children, keeping a clean home and making sure everyone was fed and clothed, at least in her mind at the time. Taking advantage of my life meant leaving small town life behind and exploring the world I saw on television and movie screens, at least in my mind. I didn’t realize how much a country girl can miss home until I was looking at the mountains through my rear view mirror. Now my son has the same thoughts about his own life.
I make it a point to sit out on my porch at the edge of dusk. Often, my teenage son comes out to see where I am, to make sure that nothing has changed since he checked on me the last time. I know that he’s spent time closing his eyes and reflecting on his life and his dreams, maybe right there in the porch swing. The next time he comes to the door I’m going to ask him to come out and sit with me so we can watch the stars come out, probably in silence, wondering about yesterday, today and all the tomorrows yet to come.
©Dianna Doles Petry
6/7/2008
Tags: Grandmothers Porch Swing Writing Reflections Aging
