Grandma's Couch

This summer I wrote about my Grandma's couch and shared memories of it growing up.  As I said in that post, she's had this couch for at least 30 years.  Though it has worn a little, to me it looks the same.  In my mind, not much at all has changed about that house since my childhood.  I learned today though big changes are a coming.  (You may want to sit for this next sentence)... Grandma's shopping for a new couch!

For as long as I can remember, the brown couch with the floral print has held up the main wall in her living room.  End tables rest on either side, holding trinkets and family photos, along with matching lamps.  Above the couch, hangs a giant mirror framed in gold, where as kids we'd do the news, make faces, and sing or dance in front of.  Draped across the back, a black and orange afghan, which always reminded me of Charlie Brown's shirt.

Grandma's spot has forever been to the left of the couch, one leg tucked under the other.  We sit the same, as I am not comfortable unless setting on top of one of my legs.  As a child, I can remember sitting next to her on this couch, hair damp, squeaky clean from a shower.  I'd have on one of her "dusters" - a house coat with buttons over my pajamas, much like one she'd be wearing.  Bible nestled in her wrinkled hands, we'd read aloud the nightly devotion.

We were never allowed to eat on the couch, probably explaining why it's lasted so long.  I recall the first holiday I was permitted to have a drink while sitting on it, a sure sign I'd moved up to adulthood.  Our age also trumped the seating order for the couch if all the cousins were around.  As oldest, I rightfully always had a seat on the couch, whatever the occasion.  Funny now the roles have reversed and the kiddos take to the floor.  Younger bodies, better knees!

I remember many naps on that couch, probably more as an adult than child.  While pregnant with Austin, we began visiting very regularly, wanting to be closer to the hospital if I went into labor.  The tradition continued after Austin was born.  Every other weekend, we'd go up for a visit.  As a new mom, I relished catching cat naps on her comfy couch, knowing Austin was being safely spoiled by his great grandparents.

There's a matching chair with this couch that I often enjoyed too.  If my Aunt Becky was around though, it was well known that was her spot.  For her short stature, I'm sure it was a like a mini couch, allowing her to drape her legs over the arm.  It was also the perfect viewing area for football.  And a good spot for resting a belly after a holiday feast.

Today, as I was tearfully reminiscing and snapping photos, I told Becky to act full.  She thought I said, "act a fool" to which she started singing the football song, right as I snapped. 

 

Laughing, I explained what I really said.  Being the ever so shy lady she is, she performed scene two.

Yep, that there is a memory. 

In fact, I truly think I have a photo just like this from more than one holiday.

Grandma was tickled I was taking photos today. 

It's just a couch, she chuckled.  I corrected her.

That couch is history.  That couch is my childhood. 

That couch is my Grandma. 

And I wanted a final pic to remember it (and her) by.  If she didn't have shopping to do, I might have just snuggled up beside her, pulled the afgan across our laps, and strolled down memory lane a little longer.

One thing is for sure, that couch has served her family well.

It's held four generations for three decades, soaked up moments and laughter,

been a backdrop for photos, a zone for time-outs,

a refuge and rest area, a spot to share stories,

a place to learn about God, a hangout for friends,

and it's supported our family, with more than fabric and wood.