After my dad passed away in 2012, I adopted his living room furniture. My siblings stared at me off-and-on after my decision to keep a couch, three chairs, a table and console stereo. “I just want to know where you are going to put it,” says practical sister. “You have a real problem Francie Pants,” says minimalist big bro. I regressed to younger years. “I’ll figure it out. Leave me alone.” “Maybe I do have a problem; it’s not yours.” They were kind of right.
One chair.
Another chair.
Another chair.
My first obstacle was the hubby. “So, I want a couple of things from the my dad’s living room. And the boys, they are soo cute. They want the rocker and stereo! Ha, ha. Well, I couldn’t just leave the couch and chair.” Pause. Pause. The response: “I’m not married to our furniture. We are not keeping both sets. No storage.” I just KNEW I married the right guy!
My next problem was disposing of my furniture. I was so afraid of creeps from Craig’s list, I sent the rosewood to consignment and the upholstered pieces were picked up by the Salvation Army. Letting go was the hardest part, the mourning short-lived.
Fancy couch.
My parents bought quality and so did my dad’s parents. Hence the generational blend of chairs and couches to be handed down to the next generation, me. My mom draped the couch and companion chair with cloth covers to maintain their mint condition. The fine furniture was unveiled for guests and holidays. I bet if any of my siblings could describe family Christmas’, the 1950s, Louis XVI celery green, brocade couch would make the top three.
New look.
With the eye of a talented friend, I reupholstered four pieces in linen and velvet for a retro chic look. I saved the old fabric from the couch and gold velvet chair. I wanted to create a keepsake, split the couch seven ways amongst the siblings, somehow.
I was inspired by Maria from The Sound of Music and Scarlett from Gone With the Wind. I didn’t have enough fabric or talent to make play clothes or glamorous dresses. I could make seven tree ornaments. Another creative friend helped me design a Christmas memory with my parents wedding photo emblazoned on layers of celery-green brocade and gold velvet fabric, in a cool onion shape. After eight joyous hours of gluing, cutting and ironing, I finished seven ornaments to commemorate my parents and the special holiday they made for us at Christmas. This is one of the few times I wished I came from a family of two.
Production.
The First!
Finished.
Merry Christmas Family! I hope you will think of all the good times we had opening presents one by one, oldest to youngest or youngest to oldest. I hope you will think of Dad on his golden thrown, Mom anywhere but the golden thrown and the battle for leftovers for the rest of us: the couch, rocker or floor. I know you will always remember the red-lighted tree. May this ornament flood you with all the Christmas memories we shared for so many years with our parents, each other and the fancy furniture.
P.S. Spoiler Alert: Packages may not have arrived yet as I tried to mail using self-service machine; I shorted the post office 65 cents on each package and they wouldn’t spot me like family would. I got them all back, added more postage and re-mailed.
P.P.S. May this effort clear any old debts, say feeding me when I was a baby; using your makeup; borrowing money from you on my payback terms; adopting your grey suede topsiders and argyle sweater vest; eating the last chocolate cupcake you made for my 9th birthday party and maybe some other things you remember but don’t need to anymore.
P.P.P.S. Remember me in your wills.
Share on Facebook