The Porch Swing

On another porch

I dropped in to visit my first cousin the other evening when I was “back home.”  She waited for me on the porch. We sat for awhile on the porch swing. As long as I (and she) can remember, this same porch swing hung from the front porch of her parents’ home.  

With the passing of her parents and changes at the home place, the swing was moved to the front porch of The Casselman, a restaurant/hotel owned by her parents. When The Casselman was sold, the porch swing found a new home on Ruth’s porch, just a short walk from her home place.

Memory-making

As a child, I spent hours on that swing, usually with other children. We swang on the porch swing when we visited Uncle Ivan’s house as a family. During family reunions, which we called Homecoming, the swing was loaded with cousins and second cousins. At Thanksgiving, we piled on the swing – when it wasn’t too cold outside. There we swang to the sounds of our families singing together inside the farmhouse to celebrate another Thanksgiving season.  

What amazes me is that the west side of the porch was enclosed with a wall and three sets of windows. Each rectangular window unit held eight individual panes. Since the rectangular porch had more room from west to east, (than north to south), the swing was hung to swing toward the west wall of windows. How daring it was to see how far the swing could travel without striking the windows! 

Sometimes we sat, piled on top of each other. Sometimes we stood, even perched on the sides of the swing as momentum pushed us all the way to the window and back. Why Uncle Ivan and Aunt Della didn’t worry or fuss at us about being careful, I’ll never know. Why they even allowed so many of us on that swing at one time is beyond me. How in the world, when there were 24 individual windows along that side, they weren’t concerned about broken windows is something I’ve never understood. That swing hit the wall of windows many times, but they didn’t break. 

A different way to play

Play is the best exercise for a child. Outdoor play is best, and we know why. The porch swing provided opportunity for taking turns, sharing, competing, and creativity. It also provided exercise and fresh air. Our parents didn’t wonder what we were doing when we piled on the swing. They could hear our laughter, and knew where we were and what we were doing.

I sit on that swing, no longer a child. I am older and not as nimble or spry, yet the memories make me smile. How I wish, once again, to be a child  and see how far and how high we can make this swing fly!

A note from Gertrude: The black and white photo shows the porch windows on the right side of the house. In the photo is my grandfather and  61 of his grandchildren. 7 additional grandchildren were born after this photo.  (I’m one of those 7). The stories we could tell about that swing, generation to generation!