The Gold Colored Rocking Chair

Elisa and her siblings were emptying their deceased parents’ house to put it up for sale. Since their father died three months ago, they had not been able to agree on how or when to vacate the house where they grew up with so many memories. Both Elisa and her siblings had a hard time entering that house and finding so many objects that would bring back those past times.

Arriving at the entrance porch, while waiting for her sister Ema to open the door, Elisa looked out at the gallery by the window and immediately remembered the gold-colored rocking chair. A movie ran through her mind with all the teachings she had sitting in that chair in that same gallery. It took her sister a while to figure out how to turn that key to unlock the door, and time seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t wait to go inside and try to find that gold rocking chair, since she was afraid that her parents had thrown it in the trash or that someone had taken it.

Finally, they entered the house and, without saying a word to her brothers, Elisa began to go around in search of the chair. They watched her in amazement, and wondered what she was so desperately seeking. 

– The chair, the golden rocking chair!  She exclaimed with a certain vehemence and a sense of urgency. 

Guessing Elisa’s anguish, her brothers immediately remembered the golden rocking chair, and asked her the reason for their eagerness to find it. Before she could say anything, her older brother began to raise up stories with the rocking chair in the veranda of the house, and everyone stopped to listen to him. They were surrounded by beautiful memories and, also, some sad experiences. Suddenly, the four brothers found themselves sitting in the armchairs in the living room telling anecdotes with the gold-colored rocking chair. Certainly, there were all beautiful stories, and tales that Elisa didn’t know; and all her siblings seemed to freely tell their experiences, including some sad heartbreaks. But Elisa only talked about the times they took turns to swing, or when they pretended to fall asleep to extend the shift of use.

The stories of Elisa in the rocking chair stayed with her and in her memory.  She couldn’t tell her siblings about the afternoons when she waited long hours for the visit of the white-bearded man to her house to share a few words that were always a balm to her heart. Nor would they understand that, in the face of their parents’ shouting fights, terror would take hold of all of them, and she would escape to the rocking chair to cry and wait for the consolations of the man with the white beard. They would accuse her of being a liar when they found out that she actually swung in the rocking chair during winter naps, waiting for him to pass by to greet each other and share the ups and downs of their days. While they continued to tell stories of the chair, of how many times they painted it in different colors, of the times they took it apart and put it back together; Elisa kept remembering her own experiences in the gold rocking chair.


She began to remember that the gentleman with the white beard leaned against the railing that separated the gallery from the garden, and that she always stayed in the chair rocking herself while she told him stories of princesses who were not princesses but who were convinced that by feeling lofty they could overcome their sorrows. She remembered that this gentleman asked her to stay in the chair and not to go near the railing of the gallery because all the beauty would escape, and he would never be able to come again. And then she clung to the chair for hours between the waits and his visits with his exquisite talks. The man told Eisa that the golden rocking chair was her throne from where she would learn to enjoy the simple things by watching people go by or simply watching the rain fall. Every time he came, he repeated that this chair was her place from where she would learn to value herself, learning to desire without waiting and to find without seeking and, thus, she would learn to master life. He insisted on thanking the Creator for the joy of each day and spoke of the hope of a better world in the faith of eternity.

 

Her brothers interrupted with their silence, watching Elisa absorbed in thought, and they sensed the depth of her sadness. Then, as if to conceal it, Elisa stood up and invited them to fetch the gold-colored rocking chair. They searched the whole house, every corner, every hallway, every room, until they found it in a kitchen cupboard where her mother kept it when they went on vacation. It was recognizable as the rocking chair in a pale gold color of the age, ramshackle, with frayed wicker backrest, and a few pieces of the armrest missing. But, seeing it, Elisa could not hold back her tears and hugged the chair as if she had recovered a loved one after being lost. She began to sob because she remembered the days when she had waited for long hours for the visit of the man with the white beard. She could feel the anguish again, sensing that she would not see him again, then she sat down in the chair and, began rocking as she had done before, reliving the desolation of the passing days without seeing this man again.

Her brothers stood watching the scene respectfully and in silence, as if they understood the reason for his sadness. Until the younger brother broke that moment of mourning and confessed to Elisa that when she was waiting for him so much, he learned of the sudden death of the man with the white beard who was visiting her. Everyone knew about his visits and their conversations and had decided to keep it in secret. So, since the man with the white beard started visiting Elisa, they decided to give her the rocking chair completely, taking care of her sister and trying to keep the chair in good condition always.  They told her that they preferred not to confess the truth at that time or in all the years that followed so as not to break the charm of that precious memory. Curled up in the chair, Elisa listened to them with amazement and looked at them with anger and horror, but then she appreciated how much they had accompanied her and, in a hug, thanked them for their complicity and care.

Her brothers withdrew, and there in the kitchen, Elisa was left alone, hugging her gold-colored rocking chair, remembering the gentleman with the white beard, feeling lofty enough to overcome her sadness. She stayed on the throne enjoying the simple things from where she learned to value herself, where she learned to desire without waiting and to find without seeking and, thus, she learned to master life. She thanked the Creator for putting in her path that white-bearded man who could have been her grandfather or an angel from heaven who taught her the hope of a better world. So, she could miss him, she managed to mourn his death, and, in her gold rocking chair, she managed to end the sorrow.

The End