The Hand Made Bench

I take my laptop off of the light brown, hand made bench that my Great Grandfather made for me when I was a very young child. I am struck with a sense gratitude for this humble little bench. My Great Grandfather, my Poppy, made this bench for me when I could barely walk. He made it so I could sit up to things better, reach things easier, have a place to sit for tea parties and when flipped over, have a place to put my dolls and their blankets. My initials painted boldly on the bottom in his strong carpenter’s hand. This Bench went with me to private school and then back home again. During a time of personal upheaval and physical displacement, when so many possessions were lost, this little bench some how made it with me. Over the years it has masqueraded as a nightstand, an end table, a lamp stand and now a laptop stand beside my bed for those nights I want to work late in to the night and still want to be with hubby while he sleeps. The little bench reminds of that book by Shel Silverstein, “The Giving Tree”. Even though my Poppy has been passed since I was in High School, his gift lives on, a message of love in the form of the little bench that keeps on giving to me in so many forms. I still see his craftsmanship and love as he used his scroll saw to lovingly carve out the simple scroll pattern. I see his look of pure joy as he puts my initials on my bench and then puts my sisters on hers. They look identical but we each got our own. I remember with bittersweet pleasure the tea parties with food from his very own refrigerator and cupboards. I think of the delight we had playing in the “kitchen” he created for us from plywood, nails and paint. He made a stove with wooden knobs that actually turned, a refrigerator with a big door for the refrigerator and a smaller one for the “freezer”, a little table, with our benches, and small cupboards for our plastic dishes and china tea set.

Every time I look at the little bench, I am reminded of his great love for my sister and me, his willingness to give of his time, his creativity, his unending love and encouragement. He thought the sun rose and set on us. It showed through in absolutely everything he did for us.

As September turns into October and Halloween/Samhain approaches, the day that the spirits walk among us, I realize that because of the gift of the little bench, my Great Grandfather’s spirit always walks with me. I watch the leaves change color and fall to the ground. The seasons change but the love of my Poppy for me will never change, no matter which side of death he is on. I love you Poppy and even though you have walked in spirit for the last 27 years, I still miss you every time I look at me priceless little bench. The little bench isn’t just a little bench, it is a warm hug and smile from across time, living on to show me what love and compassion and caring for another living creature really looks and feels like. THANK YOU for that beautiful lesson Poppy. THANK YOUR for your life.