I’m parked on my couch, wearing my really ugly house coat, in my comfy place, coffee tucked precariously beside my leg, for ease of access, any sudden movement will surely send it head over heels adding to its one thousand stains. It’s an awkward shaped sectional, designed for our last much smaller home, an odd shade of purpley brown, I wonder daily, what was I thinking when I picked this exact color.
It has been a jungle gym for two babies. The place where I have slept on the toughest nights, holding my oldest baby while his body raged with fever. The place where the whole family has gathered in the evening to just be. Everyone fighting for the very spot I currently dominate. It’s cushions have become islands, a safe haven from sharks and pirates, they have been forts, a place to hide and tell secrets. It has also been a place wear Oliver and dog score regular snacks, foraging under the cushion for little tidbits of treasure. Gross I know, I do vacuum, but I cannot seem to keep up with the crumb trail.
It has been a resting point, a conversation place, a revelation place for the people I love in this world. Mom’s sharing their hearts during life group, friends unloading burdens, dreams being birthed, lost dreams being realized. It’s the place I sat at Christmas, nursing my seven day old miracle, while I watched his big brother excitedly discover what Santa brought. It is where I knew my family was complete.
It is the place that I told Owen the truth about Santa and sex. Not sure why those two surfaced on the same week, but at the end of the “big talk” Owen looked at me and said “Wow, I grew up really fast this week”.
It is where my writing began. Dreams realized and embraced. I have curled into the cushions to sob out a disappointed heart, when there was not a shoulder near by to carry that burden. I have poured my heart out here.
Although I really want to sell it and get something that fits the space better, it’s awkwardness almost seems fitting for the years it has lived it’s purpose.
Awkward, yet purposeful, maybe that is a metaphor for it’s owner.
Couch, even though I would trade you in a heart beat (sorry, but this girl really likes new furniture) thank you for being comfy and strong.