In this old rocking chair, Future Papa's father used to play as a child.
He remembers running his little fingers along these grooves.
In this old rocking chair, Future Papa's grandmother used to rock and rock.
She covered and recovered the cushion at least half a dozen times.
In this old rocking chair, now in our kitchen, I watch Future Papa do the dishes.
And we talk and talk about our days, our hopes, our dreams.
In this old rocking chair, our cat takes long afternoon naps.
And our dog runs circles around her.
The paint is worn. The wood is chipped. It's age is greater than ours combined.
One day, a little Asian baby will be rocked in this chair.
One day, an energetic Asian toddler may topple into it.
One day, an Asian teenager may sit in it, rocking and talking, avoiding the dishes.
One day, an Asian newlywed may find this chair in his or her own kitchen.
Creaking, rocking, and waiting for the memories to come.