The Old Blue Sofa

Today we say good-bye to my parent's old blue sofa.

My parents old blue sofa isn't blue anymore. It isn't actually my parent's either - it lives with me in Iowa now. The sofa has been part of our family longer than I have been alive. Vegas and Molly sleep on it and watch for us on it.

It is a great napping couch - the kind that envelopes you because the springs and cushions are worn. I remember sitting on it with my Grandpa when he read me bed time stories. I had to sit very still and act more like a little girl than a Golden Retriever (which was not easy). Vegas is not the only girl that knows how to do the Squirmy Worm. My brothers and I used to sit on the couch on Christmas morning while Dad sat under the Christmas tree handing out presents in his bright yellow robe reminding us to save the tags (for writing thank you notes).

I have t-shirts from runs that I did fifteen years ago and I know exactly where I was when I did the run and who was waiting for me at the finish line. I have dishes that belonged to my grandmother and I use every one of them. Nini's kitchen smelled like oranges, fresh brewed coffees and gardenias (from her garden in Florida). There are dish towels and jelly jars, spoons and crocks that keep my mother with me in my kitchen. I open my pantry and see jar of chili sauce we canned together last year as she told me about her grandmother.

I am always afraid that if I let the stuff go, then I will lose the memory or the person attached to the memory.

My blessing is much bigger than the old blue sofa. I will keep the memories and love because at the end of the day that's what it is all about - love. A family that filled me with memories of love, and joy and fun; A family that loved me so much they made me a Golden Retriever.