Seeing that rustic furniture above reminds me of my late mother-in-law.
The rocking chair in her room is her lone witness of all her aches and pains, physical and emotional, during the times she was ailing. It had seen a lot and heard a lot. It had seen her anger and disappointment, her tears and loneliness, but most of all, it had seen her happiness especially when her sisters go to her room and visit her, and when somebody goes to that room and ask how she’d been, which had gone infrequent.
While everybody was busy with each life that had to be borne, a poor soul and a rocking chair silently shared each other’s laments.
But that is life. That sturdy rocking chair above had given in after years of service and its owner had also resigned from life. It is my wishful thinking with hope that her benevolence will earn her something wherever she is now.