Musing

Just Stuff

img_1781Why are we as humans so hung up on stuff? Why do we get sentimental over inanimate objects – things that can neither truly receive or give love? Why do we attach human emotions to those objects? Yeah, I came out of the gate swinging with some big heavy questions didn’t I? The reason for all this deep thought and questioning comes from a recent experience with a loveseat.

Like most newlyweds, my hubs and I had a lot of hand-me-down furniture in the first couple of years we were married.  A couple of pieces included a living room set that belonged to my parents. It was a horrible, cigarette smoke smelling, early 90s Williamsburg blue plaid that fit perfectly with my Mother’s Country/Folk art motif. In other words, it was awful even with a cover over it.  After a couple of years of marriage, we went to Bassett Furniture and bought our own set which matched our person style – very traditional.  The hubs bitched the entire time we were picking out fabrics and signing contracts about how much it was costing us. In truth, compared to our annual salary, we were spending a crazy amount of money for this furniture.  He even threw down the gauntlet by stating, “This furniture better last 20 years like my parent’s sofa. If it doesn’t then it’s overpriced crap.”  I rolled my eyes and basically told him this furniture won’t last that long. It can’t because new furniture isn’t made to last.

That set, purchased in 1998, has since been put through the wringer.  It has seen multiple moves, pets, children and more spills than I can count.  A few pieces have been replaced over the years with cheap pieces that only lasted a year or two, but the loveseat remained.  Make no mistake, this piece is not in good shape.  The seat cushions are threadbare on both sides. The back cushions have come unsewn from the back of the couch and just the other day I noticed the arm fabric is coming unstitched from the frame.  The springs are totally shot and if you lift up the cushions you’ll find a board so that when you sit your butt doesn’t hit the floor. It’s an eyesore. And, yet, I can’t manage to part with it. Much like the van from a few months ago, this loveseat represents so much more than a place to sit and watch tv.  It’s one of the first grown-up purchases the hubs and I made as a couple. It’s the place we watched countless family movies.  It’s the place where we cuddled with the kids when they were small and sometimes now when they let us.  It’s my dog’s favorite bed even though I know we shouldn’t allow him on the furniture.  It’s been part of a pillow fort and an occasional bed.  Ironically, the loveseat technically lasted 20 years just like my Mother in Law’s old couch. It has been well loved. And, yes, the photo for this blog is a picture of the 20 year old loveseat.

As one can imagine, it was very nervous when we entered a Basset store a few weeks ago.  I knew it was time. We had to do something. I’ve seen nicer furniture in frat houses compared to what we currently have.  We picked out a lovely couch, loveseat, and chair.  The set is due to be delivered at the end of this week or first of next. Once again our living room will look like grownups actually live here instead of broke college kids. But, I’m dreading hauling that old loveseat down to the curb. Even though I know it’s ‘just stuff’ that holds no real value its the memories with that ‘stuff’ that gets me every time. I guess I’m just too sentimental for my own good when it comes to certain ‘stuff’.

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