The last couple of days here can be summed up in these words: couch change. This is a big deal. Let me explain.
When we first built our house and moved in, we couldn’t even believe it was ours. So many years of super crappy rentals—and they were super crappy, believe me—and suddenly we’re going to be living in a real house, with big windows and nice floors and new appliances. Mind blowing. Still mind blowing, to be honest. However our furniture, like the houses we’d been living in, was mostly crap. Couches other people were throwing out, pieces that our parents passed down to us, things the dogs had chewed/shedded on—you get the idea.
For our housewarming gift, my mother-in-law decided she wanted to buy us a couch. A NEW couch. You have to understand: in my family, this just doesn’t happen. In fact, after forty years of marriage, my mother just bought HER first new couch, and it was such a huge move for her that I refused to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. So now here’s our chance for a brand new, never-sat-on-but-anyone-but-us couch. Amazing.
We went to Ecko International Furnishings, where our friend Sally works. She is the furniture diva. Five minutes in the store, it’s clear my husband and I are not going to agree on anything. We picked a style we liked, but not a fabric. (At Ecko, they have all these fabrics you can pick from that they can put on the couch you choose.) We are arguing. Frustrated. About to leave. The couch thing is now rife with conflict. Then Sally shows up, claps her hands, and says, “Guys! This is supposed to be fun!” Then she walked over to this roll of purple fabric neither of us had even taken a second glance at, whipped some off, and brought it over to the couch we liked. “Okay,” she said, “what about this?”
Flash forward a few months. We’re moving into our new house with only a table and some chairs, a bed, some melamine bookshelves. Truly pathetic. But we also have: our new purple couch. End of the moving day, we bring it in, unwrap it, and sit down. So great. That night, I make soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, and we eat them on the couch, setting the precedent for a million or so meals to come.
As the years have passed, we’ve gotten other new furniture. But the couch, to me, always represented this huge new start for us, the leap of faith (and finances, yikes) we were taking moving out here. Six years later, the couch was still holding up well. To be honest, though, it was not the most comfortable couch in the entire world, and my husband had started talking about finding something comfier, something you could really crash out on. A few months back, we were in Ecko and saw this great leather sectional. We started saving. We ordered it. It was supposed to come in sometime in late January. But then, on Tuesday, we got a call from Sally. It was in.
Which was great news, right? This was our Christmas gift to each other, and now we’d actually have it for Christmas. But. Now I had to give up my other couch without ample time to wallow in nostalgia (as I am wont to do) beforehand. Lucky for me, we’d already found it a good home with our friends Courtney and Cameron, who really wanted to take it. Plus, as I pointed out to my husband, the couch already KNEW them, so it wouldn’t be confused or sad. (Can you tell I get a little too attached to inanimate objects?)
Anyway, so last night, we load up our purple couch and drive it across town. Cushions are crammed in the back, it’s threatening to rain, and I keep thinking about the trip we’d taken with it in the Uhaul from the other direction, six years ago. I know that life is all about transitions, and changes, and you can’t keep the same things forever (well, you can if you’re my mother, but that’s another story entirely). We got to Courtney’s, and they came out and carried the couch inside. Where, I am sure, it will have many exciting adventures in all of its purple glory. Meanwhile, I have a beautiful new couch that is so comfortable I dozed off on it last night. All is right with the world. But there is a part of me that is nostalgic today, remembering. I always hold on too much to the past—I mean, I’m still writing about high school, right?—but this is just another lesson in letting go, I guess. People move on. So does furniture. (Although not by itself…but you get the idea.) It just part of the way that things are passed on, and down, and around, as the years go by. And they do go by fast. Don’t they?
I wish you all the very happiest of holidays. Have a safe one, and thanks for reading. Have a good day everyone!