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A Couch Full of Memories

Oh my stars, I can't believe I just cried about a COUCH.

Yes, you read that right. I just shed tears about a piece of furniture. 

"It's just a thing," my husband said. "And you keep saying that it doesn't fit in our house anymore."

Well, okay, Dr. Obvious is technically correct here: we have no longer have a place to fit this couch in our house. The playroom - where this couch used to live - got converted into a kid bedroom, and last I checked, our house isn't getting any bigger. It really is time to find a new owner who can use it.

I just don't want it to go.

Is it weird to feel emotional about getting rid of a piece of furniture? 

Probably.

Bear with me here, though.

couch

To me, this couch is not just a thing. It's a little piece of my heart, full of memories. Lots and lots of memories.

For starters, it was one of the first legitimately "nice" pieces of furniture we had in our house. Translation: not from Craigslist, a college apartment, or a yard sale. It was BRAND NEW.

{Gasp. Throw glitter.}

You know how that feels, right? It feels so fancy that you vow to never, EVER mess it up. Then your kid draws on it with a pen, and you frantically Pinterest every option to make it look like new again. Even though faint pen marks remain, you still consider it a win.

The couch became so much more than just our fancy new piece of furniture. 

To me, it's the place where I propped my feet up to find rest when morning (AKA all-day-long-sickness) hit. 

It's the place where I nursed my baby to sleep and comforted sick children who could only find rest in my arms. In fact, it gave many people rest, from the occasional guest to the spoiled rotten dog.

Hey, if I'm honest here, it's also where my husband slept on the nights when he snored so loudly that I kicked him out of bed. I can still see a little indent from his spot if I look closely enough. 

It's where I saw toddlers transition from crawling to walking, oh so carefully holding on to the sides, and it's where I saw them gain the confidence to finally let go. I guess I learned a little bit about letting go, too. 

It's where I yelled "STOP JUMPING" more times that I can count. It's also where I learned to ease up a bit and let kids be kids

It's where my kids sat learning to read, as they transitioned from eager listeners to avid consumers of books.

It's where mom friends sat for coffee, with one hour quickly turning into three or four.  

It's where my daughter and I bawled our eyes out watching sappy dog movies that really should come with a warning and a box of tissues.

I mean.

It's also where I bawled my eyes out when we lost our beloved family dog. I'm sure there's a stray piece of fur in the cushions somewhere. 

That couch has been a constant in a home that has experienced a lot of change. It's seen many prayers, many joys, and many times of uncertainty.

When it came to our home, these walls were empty. The reason it needs to go is because they're now far too full. That irony isn't lost on me.

I hope that whoever owns this couch next makes as many sweet memories with it as we did. Because, as silly as it sounds, it's not just a thing to me. 

It's a couch full of memories.  

Now it's time for that couch to be the centerpiece for memories belonging to someone else. 

So, yeah. I really cried about a couch. 

 

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