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Thursday, June 30, 2011

A Sofa Full of Memories: A Curbside Send-Off to a Dear Friend

It was roughly ten years ago that my husband and I fell in love - well, at least deep liking. Oh, not with each other - we'd already done THAT! No, the object of our affection was a golden tweed sofa, with threads of hunter green and burgundy. We built a living room and a color scheme around that sofa, and we planned a life on that sofa, sitting together on its, then, youthful and springy cushions. So it was with a great mix of emotions that we hauled the sofa out to the curb and sent it on its way. After a barrage of attacks by the claws of our house cats had exposed the fluffy white innards, it was decided that maybe it was time for something new. I had my reservations, though, and on the day when Newbie (a.k.a. the new sofa) arrived at my front door, instead of letting the delivery men haul away my old friend, I, instead, had them take the old sofa up two flights of stairs and put her down in one of the guest rooms. Sure, I had some misgivings, and sure my husband wasn't thrilled that the cat's scratching post was now taking up valuable real estate in a guest room, but I figured he come around and realize just how important this sofa had been in our lives.

It was on that sofa that we shared our first Christmas morning as husband and wife, and onto which I sank when I came home from work with the flu one terrible winter day. That ratty old sofa was the site of lazy post-church Sunday afternoon naps and marathon crossword puzzle and Sudoku sessions. It was where we shared quiet New Year's Eve dinners and entertained family for boisterous Easter Sunday feasts. From that sofa, we watched epic snowstorms and torrential downpours. The cats had established a watchtower on the back of the sofa, a perch from which they noted our arrivals and departures. Our sofa was our nexus of family life.

Letting go of this sofa's been really difficult for me, and, well, the cats. I've been trying to get at the root of my issue. Full disclosure - I've always had a problem with letting go of everything from old clothes to old cars. I've tried to be better about this, I mean, I don't want to turn into one of those people in "Hoarders"!! But, seriously, letting go of an old sofa obviously means more than the sum of its threads. That sofa is a piece of our history and it will never exist again, only the memories we have with it. This is the dilemma of existence, I suppose, the end of things. But the end of one thing can mean the beginning of new things, wondrous things!!! I think I just had my a-ha moment!?? Things end but new things begin and our memories live on - I feel like Oprah, or a Jedi.

So, dear old sofa, my overstuffed friend, I bid you goodbye. I wish you calm seas and prosperous voyage as you sail into the mystic - OK, I've had way too much Van Morrison today! I'm just saying:)

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