At some point in the mid-90s my first husband and I entered into our first major purchase – a couch.

He was, absolutely, his father’s son.  He enjoyed a comfortable and relaxing sit in front of the television and with the amazing existence of the mid-1990s there was a couch that reclined.  In function it was perfect, a long thigh to match his, it reclined, and it was clearly to be ours.

Now, as I was experimenting with the newness of being The Lady of The House I deemed that it shouldn’t be ugly.  Being in the throws of the mid 1990s did not help on that front at all.  Most upholstery was un-lovely in a muted mauve and teal floral extravaganza.

We negotiated and settled upon his functionality and the best attempt at my not-ugly rule.  It was tan.  All of it.  One large yellow/tan mass of tan couch with tan pillows and tan arm rest covers.  TAN.  Not ugly, but also not interesting.  It was the best we could do but I didn’t like it much more than if it was straight up ugly.

In 2005 I left it in Athens while I went to IL, I thought I was done with it.  It was still in Athens when I returned in 2007.  It  became the couch I would have forever.  Although, in due respect – it is a Lane sofa and has held up VERY well through many moves and a fair amount of inattention.

Then last night, it was gone.  Given to a neighbor in March, it was picked up last night and marched out of the house as I encouraged the young daughter of the new owners to not get squashed by it.  Just gone.  The last thing I owned that my first husband had sat on, watched Akira on, played video games from.

Today, a new couch arrived.  Gray this time, and bigger.  I showed it to my son and husband via technology.  It looks good and I have a plan for how I am going to finish off the room already.

Time is beautiful and relentless.  Good-bye couch that I hated for so long, I’ll miss you.