Tonight our granddaughter is being rocked to sleep held in the arms of her mother in the rocking chair that I rocked her mother, our daughter, to sleep in all those years ago.
It is the rocking chair we purchased before our baby girl was born, when she was just a dearly hoped for dream. Later, we rocked her sister and brother, now aunt and uncle, to sleep in the same chair.
Son delivered the rocking chair to his sister this afternoon. It has been resident in our living room and in recent times a favourite spot to sit with a cup of tea to look out over our hillside paradise.
There is a soft comfort and a warm joy in knowing that another baby is growing with love and being soothed by the rocking of our chair.