The world seems so crazy these days. I wanted to create a safe place. A place where people can sit down and think. Welcome to reminisceonline.
The definition of “reminisce” is to indulge in an enjoyable recollection of past events as told by the narrator.
I can’t think of a better place to tell any story than a front porch. This is mine. Have a metaphorical seat in one of those rocking chairs, while I explain.
The front porch used to be a place where people sat and talked. Children played. And strangers were welcomed. There’s something about sitting outside and being comfortable that puts this person at ease. Maybe porches were built for that.
I remember riding home from school, on the bus. A woman would usually be sitting on a couch, on her front porch. I never knew her name, but when the bus slowed down because of whatever reason, I could see her smiling face with clarity. She was plump and black, and always smiling. Sometimes I would wave. I never knew if she waved back, but I would like to think she did.
Then one day, the couch was there, but the lady wasn’t. I wasn’t worried. People have lives. Maybe she had something to do. Days, then weeks passed, and months followed. The couch sat alone. I felt sad, at first. By the end of the school year I had stopped looking. Somehow, the cold acceptance that she was never coming back had set in.
When I’m on the road I can’t help but glance at people’s homes. This seems to be a time when front porches are little more than stoops. They seem more to built to stand on while you’re opening the door, than to spend time talking. Perhaps it’s architectural preference. Or maybe, conversation has become a lost art. If it’s the latter, then this is indeed a sad time that we live in.