Lita had a tattoo of a rocking chair on her arm. She often talked about growing old and have a rocking chair on her porch… her rocking porch. It’s one of the things that was a constant with her.
I’m sitting out here on my porch right now… as I’m sitting here I’m thinking how this would have been her perfect spot in the world. There are tree frogs all around chirping away. The birds were singing their songs until the sun went down. There is the bleating of goats in the background (from my neighbor Daryl across the street). It’s big enough to have a perfecting rocking chair out here.
I wish I could have shared this with her.