It is feeling like summer these days and I spend most mornings sipping strong black coffee on my front porch. I can see the bird feeders, creep on the neighbors walking by, and start my day away from technology and other people. Sometimes a kid or spouse will join me on the porch. We’ve had a sparrow couple my girls named Charles & Charlene nesting vigorously under the porch eaves. We watch them bring stuffing, then later bugs to the hatchlings. My Dad even checks in mid-week to see how the sparrow family’s porch life is going. Our little front porch is crammed with colorful furniture, rugs, pillows and sidewalk chalk. The best feature is “Betty” my iron glider. Have you met my Betty?
Betty joined my life when I was single. I bought the rusty battleship of a glider from the Junk Guy booth at our beloved South Bend Farmer’s Market. I spray painted her white and she lived on the enclosed front porch on Altgeld Street for several years. My family has a similar porch glider at our Dreamland cabin in Estes Park, Colorado. Having my own glider felt like a small connection to those people and places. I cried on Betty, made out, laughed, drank cocktails with girlfriends and pondered all of life. When I got married and l moved to a larger house, Betty the glider got left on a back deck, exposed to the elements. She got ugly. Rustier if that was possible. I loved her anyway.
Years later, Betty lived on the covered front porch of our Elmhurst Avenue home. When John and I stayed at a luscious bed and breakfast in upper Michigan, we admired the shiny, brightly painted iron glider they had under a wisteria covered arbor outdoors. I complimented the innkeeper on the beauty of the vintage glider. I asked how it stayed so lovely. She said they just had it sand blasted and powder coated. I had her say it again a few times, the words alien to me. I wondered if this would be something we could afford to do for my dear old, bedraggled Betty.
Once home from vacation, I located a place close to where we lived that yes indeed could sandblast and powder coat my vintage glider. I think it cost around $100 dollars to transform my precious rust bucket into the gleaming cherry red wonder she is today. We would go on the treat several metal pieces accordingly: Vintage clamshell chairs, a dull grey table, a baby clamshell chair. Bright red and turquoise furniture created another inviting place to laugh, cry, kiss and of course, drink cocktails. Even during Covid, we would host careful guests outdoors on the porch. The seat of honor was sitting on Betty.
The thing is, once she was new again, and so beautiful, I had fears. I worried someone would admire her from the street and come steal my Betty. Never mind she weighs like 100 pounds, and they’d have to navigate our gate, stairs and a barking watchdog. I considered chaining her to the porch for her own safety. For my own piece of mind. My stomach would knot up with anxiety that she would be gone when I returned home. When she was rusty, I wasn’t worried. When she was made new, made nice, I felt a ridiculous fear over the possibility of losing this nice thing I owned.
I feel the same with my precious husband. My magical daughters. What if I lost them? What if this tiny infant, then this babbling toddler, then this beautiful young woman is stolen away from me? School and church are not safe places. Their youth and beauty invites the possibility of harm from strangers. Drunk drivers do not care about me or my family. As my husband and I age, I worry about over ping, sigh and ache within our mysterious bodies. Life is cruel and since I learned this at a young age, I can be more afraid then others might be. Fear could cripple me, but I won’t let it.
I’m proud to say we enjoy our nice things. We use the good china, sit on Betty, wear the fancy dress for simple errands. I know many people save their nice things only for special occasions….please know every day is a special occasion. Enjoy your nice things even if they get ruined or wear out. Enjoy your family, your friends, and the world around you every day. Having nice things, beloved people in my life means I could have great pain if they are ever lost. Is it worth
Music: "My Favorite Things" by John Coltrane
