Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Forty years ago my parents bought a sofa at the neighborhood yard sale. It was 12 feet long and sat about 20 people.

A few years later while taking a upholstery class, they brought new life to that ugly duck of a sofa.

For years it was put to good use. When you are home from school sick, it was the place to heal with the barf bucket on the floor close by while Mom let us watch television.

Each Monday during FHE it was the coveted seat, but you know even though we could all have fit on that classy sofa, we didn't want the sit that close to each other.

My Mom laid on that sofa as she was dying of cancer 26 years ago. She wanted to be apart of the comings and goings of her family and the sofa allowed her to keep tabs on us.

The grandchildren used it like a piece of tumbling apparatus. Start on one end and hop all the way to the other end. Who could do it in the least number of hops? Or how many somersaults can to do from one end to the other? When the frame started to come apart my Dad simply tied it together with a piece of rope.

(Emma, lounging one last time before it's timely demise.)

Well... jump to present day and bid adieu to to the best seat in the house. After countless efforts on behalf of my Dad's wife and his daughters to get rid of the ugly sofa it's finally made its way to the sofa graveyard. I think my Dad shed a few tears as his old faithful companion was hauled away.