You stand looking at grandma's beloved old rocking chair, dilapitated and threadbare. The springs are hanging out the bottom, the soiled cotton padding is peeking through the cover in a number spots. The wood frame is wobbly and you are afraid to sit in it any more. The finish on the wooden arms is worn through to the bare wood. Yet you don't see those ..... As you look at the rocker you see your grandma sitting in that beloved rocker ..... holding you as a child in her arms rocking you to sleep.