Where Memories Sit

After over 23 years our beloved 8 foot sofa with the pretty caning on the sides is falling apart. People sit down and find themselves sinking quickly. All those years ago, as we pinched pennies to furnish our new apartment, we had marveled over how my sister-in-law had found the sofa, two matching chairs, a table, and three lamps at a yard sale. We’d bought all those pieces for $100. The furniture was in great shape and served us well, even as children began crawling over it just a few years later.

The sofa, once clad in the striped green velvet fabric we’d purchased it in, is the one Sydney had napped on in her toddler years. The sofa is the one Emma had stood on to reach the doorknob to let her Dad in. It is the same sofa the girls had proudly sat upon with new brother Paul sleeping on their laps. Later when we reupholstered the sofa in red plaid fabric, when we moved it to our new family room, it became our favorite place to watch television and movies when friends and family came over. The kids’ friends crashed on the sofa during sleepovers and let it be known, Eric first invited the puppy up on it to cuddle as she adjusted to her new home.

So when Eric suggested we go shopping for a new sofa for our anniversary, being sentimental, I felt torn. I know it is indeed time to let the sofa go, for it isn’t even comfortable anymore, but the idea of seeing it hauled off to the dump seems wrong. Paul quickly suggested it be donated to his friend’s “mancave”. “MANCAVE?! A twelve year old with a mancave?!” No, I don’t think I could go for that. Someone then suggested it might be wanted soon by our college girl who might get her own apartment next year. But knowing the length of the sofa, it would take a relatively large room to house it, and again, it’s a matter of time before the bottom falls out completely.

Despite knowing the fate of the old sofa, Eric and I went shopping for a new sofa, a sectional that would be large enough to fit our family and company too. Within a half hour of shopping we’d spotted one we both liked and could afford. We bought it and before we knew it, the sofa had been delivered into our family room. The delivery men picked up the old 8 foot sofa with the pretty caning and placed it in the garage.

We’re enjoying the new sofa. It fits the room perfectly and provides us with comfortable support and elbow room as we all crawl on to enjoy tv together. But as I pass the old sofa still sitting in our garage I wonder, how long will I let it sit there before I let it go? And just where will it go? I suppose it doesn’t matter. The sofa doesn’t hold the memories that were created over the past twenty-three years. Those will forever have a most comfortable seat inside my heart.