It’s completely ridiculous but today, I’m a little sad and wistful.
After I moved to Nashville, TN from Vancouver, I found a nice little apartment. But it had no furniture. So, for the first time in my life, I went furniture shopping on my own.
I found this wonderful leather couch and loveseat combination. I loved the couch – its design, the suppleness of the leather, its length (I could lay down on it without body parts hanging off either end!), its depth, its softness, all of it. I was very proud of myself for striking a good deal with the sales guy and was very excited when it was delivered.
That couch remained with me for the next 16 years. It is the oldest object I own. Through twelve subsequent moves – eight different towns, two countries, four states and two provinces, that couch was there for me every day to rest on, watch TV on, eat on, talk on.
When I moved to Gibsons, we assumed the couch would join us. Sadly, the place I moved to has doors too narrow and windows too sealed to fit through. We tried and tried but it simply wouldn’t fit in the house. We thought we might be able to give it to a friend but they didn’t want it. In hindsight, I should have sold it while I was still in Vancouver.
So it’s been sitting on the deck for the past four months, getting moldy, rained on and neglected. Finally, we decided it had to go and today, we dismantled it and took it to the dump.
Except for a few cat scratch marks, that couch looked as good as the day I bought it. Even though I sat in the exact same end of it every day for 16 years, it showed no sign of age, sagging or collapse. The leather aged only slightly and even then, remarkably well. As we took it apart, we marveled at its inner workmanship. There were straps and connectors and bolts and all manner of carpentry inside to ensure it would last a lifetime.
Sadly, it didn’t. And I honestly feel bad that, in the end, I treated it so poorly. It deserved a better fate than to be destroyed and taken to the dump.
I’ll miss that couch.