Love on the Porch by Louann Carroll

The moment I step into the screened-in porch, something inside me loosens. Two chairs hug a propane fire pit, and two chairs face a sloping terrace, seen through the screens, open to the mid-morning breeze. The metal chairs are filled with overstuffed cushions that feel as good as they look. The screens are a little dusty in the corners, which doesn’t bother me, and the plants along the walls are healthy and green. Suddenly, my shoulders drop as if the room knows me and has been waiting for me to enter.

I breathe deeply and let it go.

I slip off my shoes, sit in the chair to the right, and stretch my legs until my feet rest on the wainscot. The wood is cool under my heels. My feet are dirty from walking outside, and the chipped paint on my toenails looks like a map of all the places I have visited this morning. My five miles are in, up and down the hills with barely a straight-away. I am anxious to rest. Here, on the porch, nothing bothers me. This porch forgives everything. It holds me the way a familiar song holds a memory, sweet and innocent. Filled with promise.

My friend sits across from me. His feet are up on the wainscot, too. They are just as dirty as mine. We look like two kids who wandered in from the yard and forgot to clean up. We laugh about nothing. We grow quiet without effort. The silence feels like a soft blanket, keeping my fear at bay. I love ordinary moments like this. They are rare in a world that keeps trying to pull me into storms I never asked for, and for the love of God, never wanted. Yet, I grow, each time I fall, I get up and try again.

My life has been loud. It has been full of sharp turns, thorns, and sudden drops. I have known drama that has left me tired in ways sleep could never fix. When I sit here and feel the calm settle into my bones, I know I am touching something sacred. Peace is not a luxury. It is a need. It is a truth I did not understand when I was young.
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As I sit and watch the hummingbirds, I realize there is very little left in life that I want other than health and happiness for my family. Open communication is one. Devotion. Love. I want the kind of honesty that does not shake when the storms rage.

There is no room for lies on this porch. The screens let the breeze in, and they keep the falsehoods out. Only truth can breathe here. Truth is more valuable than gold or bank accounts. Truth is the only thing that does not crumble when life gets heavy.

I finally understand that trust is the foundation of everything. Without trust, you have nothing. Without trust, love cannot grow. Love cannot survive inside a lie. It wilts. It breaks. It becomes something twisted and small. I do not want that kind of love. I want the kind that sits across from me with dirty feet and an open heart.

​The kind that laughs with me and keeps me warm.
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