Swinging

Swinging
Stephen Jeffries
After over thirty years in the same home, moving can be very traumatic. I had grown to love my house and home almost like another member of the family. All the memories of raising our children were invested in that place. The opportunity to live and make a home out this house will always be greatly appreciated.
When we talked about moving several years ago, I could not picture calling any place else “home”. It was not a materialistic hold that this place had on me. It was much deeper and more spiritual. I grew in to being an adult Christian almost always relating my home, my state and my country in a spiritual sense. I don’t mean I worshipped my House. But the feelings of home and safety , the trees in my back yard all gave my spirit joy and often drew me closer to God.
We left that house and moved into our new home on McClarnon. It is much smaller, but we found out quickly how the convenience of a newer home can outweigh the charm and history of an older home. From someone who has lived in a century old house, you really appreciate windows that open without effort. Floors that don’t creak and shimmy. Doors that don’t stick.
Some of the shock of moving probably was lessen by redecorating the new home in the exact colors of the old. Fitting our furniture in to the smaller area was a challenge but was accomplished and left us feeling almost home from the very beginning.
After several months, I was happy to be in the new place. I had not shed the tears of regret that I anticipated.. I was glad we moved. But it takes more than furniture and paint to make a house a home. I was certainly having some trouble feeling completely at home ;in spite of all our efforts.
That brings me to the last item to be moved. Our yard swing. As swings go it is pretty nice. It is make of cedar and has a arched roof. I bought it for Joyce u p on Post road for one of our anniversaries . We had place it several places in our back yard on East street. It finally settled in the far back beneath the huge Linen tree and in front of the blue spruce that has grown from a tiny Christmas tree on our kitchen counter. It was a beautiful setting. But the distance from the back door to the swing seemed at times almost insurmountable. As time passed we used the swing less and less. Once in a while I would force myself to make that trip to the back of our yard. Not using the swing was not a matter of being too lazy or too tired to make the trip to the swing. It was life whirling around our heads that kept us almost isolated from living and doing the mundane. It became a rare occasion that we used the swing. The arrival of new grandbabies became our only incentive to sit and swing.
We couldn’t move the swing to our new yard until recently. When it arrived I knew right where I wanted it. Right next to the garage close to the house. Nestled between the house and one of our two trees, the spot was perfect and with in moments I was enjoying a new love affair with my swing.
It has happened on several occasions. It may happen early in the morning or late at night. It may happen when I am cradling Khloe or Emma or Jackson or Liliana in the swing. I may be when Joyce and I swing and reflect on 38 years of marriage. It rushes over me like a wave of peaceful happiness. I finally feel ----“at home”. I can’t define it or explain it but it has certainly brought me closer to God and to my family. I know this house will never be completely home until I stop and take time to let it. I know that being home is much more than a house or a yard or even a swing. It is taking time to love and enjoy your family and remembering to thank God for how fortunate and blessed our life can be.