farewell old friend

There she stood, precariously perched on top of her wooden wine crate bookcase, with her face plastered against the cold window. "Look!" she exclaimed,"my couch is outside in the snow!" She asked me when we were going to bring it back inside.

And there it was, it's faded plaid pattern a cheery compliment to the dirty snow on the boulevard. To it's left, our garbage can sat, tilted towards it as if sharing a word. Perhaps encouraging it in it's despair of being left alone, in the cold, on the curb, an invitation to our garbage company to pick it up and take it to the land where retired couches live happily ever after.

I'm sentimental.

About 5 months ago, the thinning fabric on cushion #1 gave way to the soft padding underneath and Evie delighted in removing it in large handfulls. Not only did I have an unsightly couch, but now there were piles of fluffy white cotton dancing across my hardwood floors. It bothered me, but it really bothered my mom. So, after cushion #2 burst headlong, I found a fancy flowered fitted sheet, in my hall closet, and stretched it across the cushions. My ordinary old couch now had a shabby chic feel to it.

And so we saved our pennies and looked on Craigslist and got used to our unsightly err, shabby chic decor. That's how we roll..trusting that God will provide at just the right time.

And He didn't disappoint. I love the fancy red blessing sitting in my living room today.

As Evie and I doodled about the house, I heard the familiar vroom of the garbage truck coming down the block so I scooped her up and we plastered our faces against the front window. We goodbye to our faithful old friend. We watched as the garbage man tipped it on end and leaned the padded armrest into the mouth of the compactor on the back of his truck. Like a hungry animal, it bit down and the other end of the couch lifted into the air, fighting for it's life. No match for its opponent, the couch succumbed and, with snaps and cracks, was broken into pieces and disappeared. Evie cried out and I consoled her.

As I watched the gory scene, my mind played back memories of the couch from the past 5 years. Painting and setting up the furniture weeks before we were married and would make this house our home. Snuggled up on Sunday afternoons on it's generous cushions, reading books. The sweet blessing of kinship and the friends who snuggled down into those fluffy cushions and filled our home with their laughter. Bringing the TV upstairs on Halloween so we could watch movies from our couch in between trick-or-treaters. Having a new baby and finding myself propped up on those cushions feeding and comforting her round the clock. Fighting a fierce battle with post-partum depression and spending endless days sitting there, holding my sweet baby and staring blankly out the front window. Quiet mornings of worship in the presence of God. When I washed the cushion covers with Oxyclean and they no longer matched the rest of the couch. As Evie found her legs and cruised up and down on the floor, holding tightly with one hand. The spit up stains on the arm rests. The brown spots from a chocolate bar who's crumbs were pressed down by the weight of a really good-looking man. The water stains from sippy cups with leaks. The pacifiers, toys and popcorn that burrowed, like frogs in the mud, between and under the cushions. The nights I spent huddled up with blankets in agony, blogging about courage. The long afternoon naps....

I could go on and on (well, perhaps I already did)..,.and maybe, I could shed a few tears (well, perhaps I've done that too)...

Evie tried to console herself by saying that the garbage man would bring the couch back tomorrow. Wanting to reassure her, but needing to be truthful, I told her that the couch was gone forever. But, in it's place, God had answered our prayers by blessing us with our new couch. She hasn't warmed up entirely to one. Perhaps because we've stressed the importance of the new couch being something we treat kindly and with respect. (It was easy to let that slide with a faded, ripped, 15 year old version) Hopefully, she will soon find comfort in pulling books up onto the firm, red cushions and snuggling up for a good long read.

And then, it didn't help, that the garbage man had a friend pull up in an old red Honda and they stood out there, right where we watched our faithful friend lose it's life to the giant green couch eater, for 15 minutes and shared some stories and some laughs. And so, because the truck and the orange vested man, were still out there, Evie begged me to stay there with her and watch the scene. Perhaps she was hoping the truck might change it's mind and spit out her beloved couch or perhaps in awe of the man who so easily pushed our fluffy friend to it's demise. Either way, we stood there for 15 long minutes, grieving, imaging life how it was and what could never be again.

So we grabbed a book and settled down on our new red friend. It is beautiful, cozy and has a lot of memories to make...