Gertrude gave me a wonderful, big, sturdy, wicker rocker when I got married. The rocker came to me with other furniture when Gertrude was downsizing to a smaller home. It was perfect timing because when I got married, we did not own a stick of furniture and we were grateful for anything.
It was made by Gertrude’s father when she was pregnant with my mother. I remember as a kid the rocker was in her sewing room and was a superb place to curl up and read. One day I must have been bored and rocked until I got up enough momentum and over the rocker and I went. Gertrude was not happy about that, to say the least. That was when she told me the history of the wicker.
The rocker was a special project for Gertrude when she was expecting my mother. By my estimation the rocker is close to 100 years old. My great grandfather had been a willow basket maker in Buffalo. Gertrude had so many unique baskets in her home. One for laundry, gardening, sewing, and a special one for the Easter bunny to fill. I still have some of the basket as they were made to last a lifetime or two.
I continue to enjoy rocking in it and remember when my second child was born, it became a God send. That child loved to be rocker. She got colic at 2 weeks of age and it did not go away until she was 3 months old. Like clockwork she started to cry (really scream) at 4:00 PM. My husband would come home to find me and the baby in the rocker, with no dinner ready. He had a choice, rock the kid or make dinner. We alternated nights on who was the baby rocker. Having the rocker in my living room brings back so many memories of good times and the experiences that make for a good life.
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