In my need/desire to downsize and simplify, I have moved home again.
It was odd to be packing boxes so soon again and to be faced with the challenge of taking belongings to a donation center. I finally gave away Davids favorite jacket.
On the moving day, the three piece couch could not fit up the winding, narrow stairway. It was just not interested in joining me in the new home. As discussions of hoisting it up and through the front window were taking place, I was remembering back, just a few years to when David and I chose that furniture. We had countless visits, taking far too long, walking around the show room. Sadly because the Alzheimer's was pretty apparent, and David was seeing every piece of furniture for the first time - despite walking around at least ten times on several occasions.
It was an expensive piece, but he loved it, and I loved that he loved it and all I wanted to do was to make him happy. So with a payment plan in place I bought it.
Weeks later when it arrived, he hated it. Which is very typical for Alzheimer's. Anything new appears as a threat, yes even furniture. The first night we had to cover it with familiar blankets and cushions, so that he felt comfortable. The second night he spilled chocolate ice cream over it - boy did those cushions take a beating!!! He soon came to love it, and somehow that couch became a sacred spot for the two of us and Max The Cat. Where I could finally get David to sit and watch something on the TV and we would for hours, just hold hands and breathe.
When he first went away to the hospital and then finally died - all I could do, was to sit in the same place and just wait for time to pass, so that I could breath again.
So, my heart was tugging as I needed to leave that three piece sitting on the pavement waiting to be collected. Then it hit me - I had sat, holding Davids hand when he died. I had no choice but to leave that room, and him, and the family, and our life and our weird, crazy love. I could let all of that go with respect and love - and so how dramatic or how simple could I make letting go of a piece of furniture? Wood, nails and material are not worth tears (unless you're religious, and that's another story!)
It is all a choice of how you face things. Our hearts count for everything. It is not what we own, what we wear or what we drive. It is the faces we look at fondly, the voices we love to hear and those moments that are tender and warm.
At one am I peeked and the beautiful three piece had been taken away. I trust for some new adventure. Like myself I guess..............I hope.........I plan.