What brought about this sudden change? Thanks to my new found desire to blog, I read of a great compromise to this problem. If we hold onto every possession that holds a memory, these possessions will overtake our lives and we will find ourselves on an episode of Hoarders! I DO NOT want to find myself on Hoarders! I should stress for those who have never been in my home, my problem is not even close to an issue compared to some of the episodes I have watched from that show. My home is very neat and clean. I just have boxes of keepsakes and use available storage for these important memory filled possessions. The solution I found within a blog was to take a photo of each possession, write the memory associated with the picture, and compile a scrapbook. I already love to scrapbook, so adding a few more scrapbooks versus lots more possessions seemed like an amazing compromise.
I decided to start out small and used our local swap shop on Facebook to get rid of a few items. These were baby steps, but I was very proud of myself. The moment my husband realized I was serious about this goal occurred the day he received the Facebook notification that I had listed a rather large item for sale on swap shop. This item was a green microfiber couch. To many this was nothing more than a couch that was in good shape and ready for many more hours of relaxing while eating popcorn and watching a movie. To me this item was the final purchase my father made for me.
This purchase was not a spur of the moment decision. In fact I did not really even need a couch when my Dad bought it for me. My Dad was "old school". He would come to our home to visit and find it very odd that we used our front room as a formal area with a rocking chair as the only real sitting area. In order to reach the living room, you would have to walk through my kitchen and down a small flight of stairs. Here you would find our couch, television, and more relaxing area. Each time Dad would visit he would tell me that no home should have a front room without a couch, especially when old people did not like stairs. Those were his words, not mine.
One random morning I received a phone call from my Dad asking if I would be home and available to spend some time with him. It worked out that I had the day off, so when he arrived we headed to an unknown destination. When we pulled up to the local furniture store I asked why we were there. My Dad informed me that he was going to purchase his own seating for when he came to visit. Within a few short minutes, a couch was chosen that we both agreed upon and a delivery time was scheduled. From that day forward, each time my Dad entered my home he had a place to call his own.
I never realized until losing my Dad in July 2012 just how much that couch would mean to me or how much I would miss him coming in my front door and sitting down to enjoy a birthday party, Easter egg hunt, or Christmas dinner with my family. The couch left its' spot in my living room and moved to a storage area when it no longer fit the decor of the room. However, I could not bring myself to part with the memories that couch held by selling it.
In February 2014 I realized I was ready to take a picture, compile my memories, and let go of this possession. Within minutes of listing this green couch on swap shop, a variety of people were interested. The first young girl who responded sent me a message that she would buy it that day if we could possibly deliver it to her. I agreed and of course volunteered my husband to help deliver it that evening. We reached the home, accepted payment, and I shed a few tears as I left.
Within a few hours the girl who purchased the couch called me to inform me she had found what appeared to be a lawn mower key on an Iowa key ring in the couch. She stated she wanted to make sure I was able to come pick it up, and felt it may be important to me. That key belonged to my Dad. The fact that someone who did not know me at all would take the time to call me over something that most people would simply throw away made me feel so blessed.
The next evening my husband and I stopped by to pick up the key. I walked to the porch and knocked on the door. As the door opened and I was invited in, I saw a young boy wrapped up in a blanket with his toy asleep on the couch. The young girl handed me the key as she and her husband explained to me how thankful they were to find a couch they could afford. I shared with them my story behind the couch, the difficulty I had in making the decision to sell it, and how happy I was to see a young family much like mine had been at the time of the original purchase enjoying it.
As I reached the truck tears were rolling down my cheeks. My Dad was always the kind of person to help others. When I was a teacher I told him about a little girl in my class who did not have money for gloves and a hat. He drove down to my house the next day with multiple pairs of gloves and hats for both boys and girls. I know that at that moment he was looking down at me and was proud of me. He would be so happy knowing that something that had brought him joy each time he relaxed on while playing with his grandchildren would now bring joy to another set of little boys watching movies or napping in the comfort of a green microfiber couch.
To some it is simply a material possession. To me it will be a memory I will hold deep in my heart forever.
