The End of an Era...Almost

I am not a person who deals well with change. From big changes to very small ones I have difficulty adjusting.

Before Peter and I were married I bought a couch and matching chair. It was supposed to be for his apartment. The couch ended up being too big and awkward to get up the narrow staircase so my roommate and I made room for it. It wasn't a new couch. If I had to guess it's age I'd guess it was made during the 70's. When I bought it I thought it was cool. I was impressed that Peter who is 6'3 could lay down on it without his feet wouldn't hang over the end. We spent many comfortable evenings together sitting on it with our legs intertwined watching movies, television or just talking. A couple of springs had broken a few years ago but we flipped it over and managed to fix it. Many good times have been had on that couch. (Get your minds out of the gutter people. But yes, those sorts of good times too.)



Since Audrey was born our beloved couch has had a lot more use. I spent many late nights nursing on it. Spent many long days nursing on it. The many visitors that came by to see her piled onto it while they oohed and aahed over her. Something had to give. Unfortunately the couch blew almost half of it's springs. We flipped it over once again but the diagnosis seemed to be that it should be put out of it's misery. I sighed but knew it was true.



I began searching our local second hand stores for a replacement. The pickings were slim. You see, I like my 70's couch. I am not a fan of the puffy couches in pastel colors or even of the newer trends of leather or faux suede. I like my furniture to be funky or antique. It's a thing. That's when my friend (and former roommate) told me that his grandma needed to get rid of her couch and chair from her home. She was moving to a smaller place and didn't have room for all of her furniture. I asked about this couch. It seemed to fit my criteria. It was the right age and had a matching chair. It was even the right color. How much would she like for it? I asked. He told me it would be free. Free. How could I turn down a free couch? The problem? In order to look at this couch I would have to travel about an hour out of town to where his grandma lived. Feasible? Not really. Did I really need to see it, I wondered? After all, it was free. It sounded fine. My friend's mother even dug up a photograph for me. Unfortunately, the only one she could find was one from like, at least 30 years ago. It was hard to tell. Ultimately I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and said we would love to have it, thank you.

Last night my wonderful friend and his wonderful father drove out to retrieve this furniture for us. I was working until 9:00pm and knew it would be waiting for me when I arrived home. I had a small break early in my evening and I frantically called home. I asked Peter to please take a photo of our couch, you know for posterity. Not because I was being sentimental and let's face it, a little crazy. I believe I even asked him to “Make sure it looked nice.” ? Like how? Fluff it's cushions or something. He indulged me and told me he would take a beautiful picture and I was relieved.

I drove home from work feeling excited and anxious. When I walked in the door two of the chairs were sitting in my front entrance waiting for me to put them where I wanted them. I quickly said “Hi!” to the baby and walked into the living room. There it sat. It was a bit smaller, different shade of green and a different kind of fabric. I liked the style, it looked nice in the room. I could see it had been well used and was worn but I expected this. I sat down on it. It felt wrong. I observed it's cushions and fabric a little closer and noticed that it was extremely worn. I wanted so badly to like it and in a lot of ways I did. I felt profoundly sad. Peter stood there holding the baby and stared at me. “It's nice, huh?” he said.
“Uh huh.” I replied the sadness coming through in my voice.
“You don't like it do you?” he asked me.
“Um, it's just different. I didn't know what to expect.”
“Well, I think it's fine.” he told me. I felt worse. I was a terrible person. I should like this free couch that we were given but instead I just felt awful. Then the phone rang. It was my friend. We made small talk and then he asked me if I'd seen the furniture.
“Uh huh.” I said.
“You don't like it do you?” he asked.
“I feel really bad.” I said.
“It's okay, I had a feeling that you might not like it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, that's why I called. Do you want me to bring your old couch back?”
I officially felt like the worst person in the world.
“Um...”
“You have to make a decision now.” he told me “It's no big deal, I'll just bring it over now.”
“Okay...”




So he did. He and Peter carried out the old/new couch and chairs and carried back in our old couch. My anxiety floated away with only residual guilt remaining about my friend and his dad going to so much trouble for nothing. So, it's back. It's a little saggy and not as comfortable as it once was but I love still love it. I am still going to hunt for a new (second hand) couch but I am willing to wait until the right one comes along. No more blind dates for me. I need to fall in love with the next couch before I bring it into our home. Or I at least have to be infatuated with it.