Happy Mother's Day

In 1950 my dad was 16 years old. He loved his mother so much he spent his first paycheck, from his first job, buying his mother a set of outdoor furniture. It consisted of two metal chairs and a glider. They were very, very red. They had a cut-out pattern of interlocking circles that looked like a big flower on the seats and backs.

Over the years of constant use by the family, numerous repairs and color changes were made. I remember, in my youth, rocking back and forth on the glider during family get-togethers and cookouts in my grandparents backyard. Hamburgers and hotdogs, Charles Chips, Kool-Aid and sitting on the churn while one cousin turned the crank and another added rock salt, so we could have home-made ice cream.

We'd never learn either. We'd wolf down the ice cream so fast we'd give ourselves a headache from the brain-freeze. Those really were the days.

I had so many cousins we had football and baseball games in the open lot next to my grandparent's house, without bringing in anyone outside the family. My Uncle Bill, only a couple of years older than me, usually kept it cut. (He was youngest of 7 kids and I was the oldest of his oldest brother.)

They had an old beat-up, faded yellow riding lawn mower. You had to start it using a handled rope with a knot on the end that wrapped around a pulley on the end of the crackshaft. It was a tough way to start an old mower. If you didn't get it going right away, it could wear you out.

We begged Bill to ride us around the yard on the little yard wagon behind the mower. He really didn't want too. He made up the excuse that it was too hard to start. I asked if I got it started, would he let me drive us around the yard. Bill figured that was a safe bet.

I figured I only had one shot at it. I'd tried this before and had to give up from exhausion. I wrapped the rope tight on the pulley. I put one foot up on the mower to give me something solid to brace myself against. Then I gave it everything I had.

It started the first time! Everyone was amazed. Even Bill jumped and adjusted the choke so it didn't die on us.

We had a great time riding around and around all afternoon. I was in the driver's seat with a big grin on my face. All the cousins took turns jumping on and off for rides. (There were too many to ride all at once.)

I was the topic all evening with the adults and the kids. Bill just smiled in minor defeat and shook his head. I rocked back and forth on the glider and ate my slightly burnt hambuger, all full of myself. That's when the color of the outdoor furniture was black.

Many years ago I told my grandmother I wanted that glider and chairs whenever she was through with them. I like to think of those happy days as a kid, the weekend visits to my grandparents and seeing all my cousins. There was the old house, the yard, the pine trees planted all around the yard as saplings that soon towered over the property and the yard furniture.

My grandmother gave me the furniture decades ago before she moved into an assisted living apartment complex that Bellvue Baptist runs next to the church. I've hauled them around the country as I moved with my job.

A couple of weeks ago I decided the furniture needed a major overhaul. Out came the grinder and sander. Off came layers of paint, different shades of green black and finally the base coat of bright red. The furniture had an interesting look, up to that point, because the paint had been worn down through the different layers. I had to do something before the rust completely took over.

It took a lot longer than I expected. I found a dozen spots where I took off the paint, that there were holes though the metal underneath. Out came the Bondo. No, its not a car but, it worked out great. About half the hardware, screws, bolts, pins and attachments were not original either. The family had made a lot of repairs.



I built a patio area in my front yard with that furniture in mind. I love sitting out there, like the old man that I am, rock on my glider, playing my dulcimer, listening to my little cherub water fountain and thinking about my childhood with my big ol' family.

The family is spread out all over the country with their own kids and families. I know they all remember fondly those days when the family was all close-by and got together, often for no particular reason. I know my kids would love to know their cousins better. It is a shame we don't get together the way we used to.

My sister, on a recent visit to Memphis, said grandmother asked her about that furniture. Well, I finished restoring it and painting it all. It's on my patio, now a two-tone green which I find pleasant among my little potted flowers and fountain. This Mother's Day will be 58 years to the day after my dad gave this furniture to his mother.

I am just sending her a Mother's Day card with a picture of her glider and chairs sitting on my patio. If only a couple of things go with us when we retire to FHH it will be my Grandmother's glider and chairs, and my dulcimer. That and my memories will be all I need.

(My boat is already there.)