Called back into action

  Years and years ago, I was given the old highchair that Mom used for all of her kids.  This chair had been in the family for quite some time before we sat in it.  Generations of tots were propped in the chair to learn the finer points of dining.   It made me happy to have the chair back in the house.  My sister had it for a while and she returned it when she was  making a move to their new house.  The chair had seen better days so a bit of work was necessary to restore the thing to a useful state.  I stripped the finish from the pieces, glued the parts back together and then put on a new coat of varnish.  My darling daughter even managed to find the very same decals that Granddad had put on it when he refinished it at one point.  The chair was back to its sturdy self and ready to cradle a few more babies in safe comfort.

  Now my beauty of a granddaughter has come to visit the Little Bayou House.  She is at the perfect age to sit in the highchair and enjoy a meal. The piece of furniture is being called back into action once again.  I decided to wipe any dust bunnies from the chair before she arrived and a flood of memories bombarded my brain.  I thought of how this chair saw hard times when meals were lean and how it saw the good times when only the best was set upon the tray.  I recalled first birthday parties when the chair was bedecked with ribbons and other holiday meals when the chair was shared by several different cousins.  The tykes ate meals in tandem, one after the other, so each would have a turn sitting in this old chair. Back in the day, things were made well enough that they were passed down from one generation to another.  The pieces actually became fixtures within the family.   It saddens me to think that things nowadays are not made of the same quality.  I cannot imagine the mostly plastic things being family heirlooms.

  Dusting this old highchair brought back another memory that threw me into a fit of giggles.  One of my brothers (who shall remain nameless at this point!) would drag the highchair into the hallway late some evenings.  There this tall, lanky teenager would entertain all of his siblings with crazy, made-up-on-the-fly songs while he strummed on an old banjo. The instrument had only one string so his talent laid purely in his ability to be a comedian.  His songs were usually about when he was going to be elected as President and how we were all going to move to the White House.  Needless to say, that never happened but the entertainment at the time was the absolute best!    We would all be in our beds listening to him go on and on about how we would be the best First Family ever!  Our peals of laughter probably were heard in the next county but that was quite alright.  It was good, clean fun...family fun and the chair was part of it.  No ordinary chair would have ever inspired him to carry on in such a way.  It was great.

  Now the chair will see happy times once again.  Mary Ruth will carry on the tradition of having a few meals while surrounded by the memories of those that came before her.  Family..that is what it all about.