(See the love story below behind this Chimayo, New Mexico bench)
Every bench has a story or two (or probably many more!) that you just don’t know until you strike up a conversation. Certainly the bench isn’t talking!
The owner of the coffee shop/art gallery in Chimayo explained this is a bench his father made by hand for his mother as a wedding present. They would sit looking out at the mountains, the sanctuary across the road and the neighbors who lived on the dirt square—all of whose ancestors came together from Spain to settle in New Mexico.
His parents now look only from their framed photos on the wall. Their son says he doesn’t know how to make benches, even though he is an artist himself. But he will never throw this one away, no matter how old it gets. He will put a fresh coat of paint on it, maybe replace a cushion, but it will stay in the family that still lives on the square.
So, that made me remember a bench conversation with Susan. We shared that each of us had box of old love letters hidden away. Neither of us had looked in the boxes for a long time. The authors were for the most part gone from our lives. No one is meant to read them.
“Why do we keep them, these old love letters?” I asked her.
She answered.
“We keep them because there are some days you just need to be reminded that you have been loved.”
I think that’s a lovely reason, don’t you?
SKATE ON!
Darla
