I’m sitting in the last of the day’s light, watching yet another snowfall softly make its way onto my car, the street, and in much more poetic fashion, onto the bushes and naked trees in my front yard. I’ve turned my wing chair toward the window in order to see the snow, and am listening to Esperanza Spalding–a recent wonderful discovery–and finishing up a Sue Miller book, while sipping Merlot. An altogether pleasant, relaxed way to spend a March evening.
But as I sit in this comfortable chair, I remember how I grew to nearly loathe it last year at this time. After a hip replacement in mid-February, it was necessary to sit in a chair that allowed my hips to be higher than my knees for three months. The wing chair couldn’t quite achieve this feat on its own, so I bolstered the seat cushion with extra padding and pillows. And it was from that spot that I did nearly everything that required sitting over those months. I would pull up a tray to eat meals there, and perched on the chair to read, work on my computer, write letters, chat with visitors, and watch t.v. How I longed for the day when I could sit somewhere else, and have a different view of the room! In retrospect, I realize this was a fairly insignificant complaint. I was, after all, so incredibly lucky to have had the healing surgery, really nothing short of a miracle in restoring my ability to walk without pain. I suppose, however, that it’s human nature to want what we can’t have, to miss the simplest of things when they’re literally or figuratively out of our reach. When I was finally able to graduate to sitting anywhere I pleased, I eschewed the wing chair, preferring the couch (a better view of the fireplace and so much nicer for naps!).
So it’s nice to return there tonight, this simple piece of furniture that served me so well during those recuperative days. As the sky darkens and the flakes mount, I know I’ll be back.
Mar5
justbeyondthetracks 