The Side Table

When you left us, you left behind an apartment full of things. Useful things that you could no longer use anymore. I can still see small glimpses of your apartment. I remember the way the summer sun crept in through one of the living room windows. New things, old things, special things. There was a small desk in the living room where you kept all of our cards we'd sent. I have all of yours too. The taco card was always a favorite. All of your things. 

Eight months after, I got married. Pa and Ma didn't want to waste any of your things. They gave me your toaster, some pots and pans, cooking utensils, an iron and ironing board, two small tables and a matching coffee table. A wedding gift from you. I gladly accepted.

Things start to break. The toaster quit working. A leg to one of the tables became loose. A plastic stirring spoon was accidentally melted on an electric stove top. I started feeling upset that I couldn't keep your things forever. I couldn't understand at first, or put it into words, why these things breaking could upset me so much. I told Justin once, "I know it's so silly. I can't throw away his things even when they don't work anymore." He replied, "It's not silly. They're the only tangible things you have left of his life. They show that he existed." After that, I decided to pack away some of your things so that I wouldn't ruin them anymore. 

The iron broke a couple years ago, but I still have it. It's stored in a box in my closet with some old pans and a melted spoon. The ironing board lets out the most teeth gritting creak you can imagine--luckily, I don't iron often--but I'll use your ironing board until it wont unfold anymore. 

Our new couch will be delivered today. It's a large sectional, and will accommodate our ever growing family, but it won't leave room for your side table. The other side table and coffee table have been retired for some time now, but this last one is still going pretty strong. (It's worn, but still use-able). Kind of amazing after eleven years. I will keep it tucked away though, for as long as I can. I love you, Shew-shew.