All is quiet now but who knows how long the stillness will last. I could tell so many stories about the people who have taken a moment to sit on me for a rest. Some sit to rest their weary legs while others rest their weary hearts.
The weary at heart ones are usually quiet at first. Time slowly passes as they find the words that their heart wants to speak. They make sure no one else is around as they pour out their soul. Tales of woe and heartbreak; I have heard them all. Falling tears have landed on me as many times as the falling rain. I do that which I am able to do. I give them a place to sit. No judgment is made about their heart cries. I only hold them up so that they don’t fall. I give them all the time they need, no rush from me, I’m not going to leave.
I have played a role in the joyful times as well. Squeals of delight I often hear. From the little boy catching bubbles, to the young lady surprised by flowers from her beau. I have felt the shared contentment of a couple holding hands, to the loving mother who cuddles her baby against her chest. I have heard the gasp from the woman who sees the long awaited bus pull up to the curb. The bus who holds her dearest love. The one who has been gone for what seems like a thousand nights.
I also have served as a bed for those who need to take a rest and have no other place to lay their head. In those times I wish I could do more. I wish I could make myself softer for their weary heads. I can’t do that, but I will continue to do what I can. I’ll always be here. I am not going anywhere. I’ll continue to hear their tales of woe and their tales of joy, as I hold them up so that they don’t fall.