The One About The Couch
It was just a couch, but it brought back a flood of memories.
"My mom had a couch like that," my friend Mindy said. She continued on to tell a story, but all I could think about was how similar the couch was to The Couch.
The Couch my mom had always wanted.
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When you grow up in a trailer park where the rent is $75 per month, the furniture tends to be the sort of furniture that others might consider worthless. In our case, the living room furniture paid homage to the 70's. Our couch bore an orange and brown pattern that told a story with it's scenic rural print. There was a barn and a farmhouse surrounded by trees, a wagon-wheel fence, and fields of wheat.
It was hideous.
But, it was the only couch we had. It had gone from living a stylish life in the early 70's in my grandparents house, to living a slightly outdated life in their basement, to living a completely tacky life in my childhood home. My mom surely realized just how hideous it was, but she was protective of the things that were expensive to replace. I can't tell you the number of times I was told to get my ass off of the arm of the couch. "Get off of there before you break that arm!" she would scold.
Can you break the arm of a couch? I'm not sure. I never managed to do it, but once I was old enough to appreciate the value of a piece of furniture, I stopped risking it. Ask Alexis what happens to little girls who climb on the arms of couches in our house now, 30 years after my mom first started yelling at me for doing the same.
It's so fun when you hear your own mother in your head as you fuss at your kid.
My mom protected that couch for well over fifteen years. She cleaned it and vacuumed it and did everything she could to keep the velvet fabric from wearing out. By the time I graduated from high school, however, her efforts were starting to be in vain.
It was so worn out. So very worn out.
And yet she continued to care for it. It wasn't until she was given the all-clear after a radical mastectomy that she started to plan for its demise. It was then that she made up her mind that she would get new living room furniture no matter what. She wanted a matching set, and she decided to move mountains to make it happen.
She started stashing pennies to save for new living room furniture. She picked up aluminum cans on the side of the road and turned them in for cash. She scrounged. She sold things. She saved. Eventually she pulled together enough cash to put a couch, loveseat, and chair on layaway at the local furniture store.
From there it took her another year to make the payments required to take the furniture home. The ugly orange and brown couch went to its final resting place at the landfill, and it was replaced with something new.
And equally ugly.
I have no idea what she saw in The Couch. It was horrific. We went from paying homage to the 70's to paying homage to the 80's with a pink, slate blue, and gray southwestern style geometric pattern.
The cancer returned and eventually murdered my mom in 1995, just over a month after The Couch went home.
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My dad remarried not long after my mom passed away. That's another story for another time, but my thoughts on it were born in an explosion of emotion related to The Couch.
I returned to North Dakota for my dad's wedding. It was a mistake for me to be there, but I didn't know that until I walked into my childhood home. I stood in the middle of the living room where my mother died and asked, "What happened to The Couch?"
"That ugly thing? I should have burned it, but I threw it away instead," my new stepmother said.
I loved that stupid couch.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Reader Comments (19)
Thank you.
Oh god.
Oh M.
You ripped my heart out :-(
I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry. step mothers can be evil without even knowing it. ps. you can break the arm on a couch. my brothers did. it just felt all sunken in.
You choked me up.
Making me cry at 7:17am is not good. But the writing is.
And yes, I yell at my sons to get off the arm of the couch.
I yelled at my nephews when they were little to stay off the arms of the couch. I'm sorry your step-mom did that to your couch.
Oh that evil step Monster! I'm so sorry she did that. Your mom sounds like a hell of woman. :)
Way to make me cry! What a beautiful post, though. I have been hanging on to an OLD perfume bottle because it smells like my grandma. It found its way into a garbage bag once & I nearly lost it.
Thanks for sharing this story. You have nicely tell us how serious disease couch it. Once it occurs then it is very difficult to escape it. So keep in mind prevention is better than cure.
I know exactly the type of 80's couch you are talking about. We had one of those too. You know someone probably rescued that couch and put it to good use.
Without words but glad you have them to tell us stories of evil stepmothers.
Yep, I'm crying. It's funny how the things we think we hate actually hold a very significant piece of our heart sometimes.
I'm so sorry that happened to you. I wish I had more to say but I'm speechless.
Thank you. I'm now in tears.
I miss my mom too. Funny, how certain things remind you of them. And there are certain items/memories that you remember forever. Thank you for sharing <3
Oh I would have slapped her. I'm sure she didn't know, but still...
Wow. This post. Just... wow.
i. i can't. i just can't even imagine.
considering all the crap in my garage that was my mom's, i just can't imagine something so important to her being tossed and unloved.
dammit, the free flowing tears are back.
xoxo
Interesting story. Thanks for sharing how much you value what you have and make the most out of it. Have you tried to recover your old couch? Thanks for sharing.