The Old Chair

Several times I’ve been temped to take this battered old kitchen chair to the recycling centre - but at the last moment I just can’t part with it...

My dad gave up all his furniture when he remarried back in 1961 so I have a feeling that this chair was probably one of a set which originally belonged to my stepmother’s mother.

Whatever it’s origin, it remains an integral of my memories... then, when I married and my stepmother died, the set must have been dispersed and just this one chair remained. So although there was a better quality table and chairs in living room, dad continued to eat at the kitchen table whilst sitting on this chair.

My dad was short - and rather rotund! - so the rickety chair did an awful lot of creaking when he sat on it!

When he died, I had only been out of hospital a few weeks myself and as he lived in rented accommodation everything had to be removed very quickly. Because of that, I made decisions which were probably too hasty and I gave away all his things - leaving me just with his personal effects like photos, medals and documents etc - and this chair...

As time has passed and with it the realisation that I too must start to reduce the the abundance of possessions accumulated over the years, I have looked at the old chair - which doesn’t fit in with our furnishings anyway - and keep telling myself that it really is time for it to go!

But something stops me... we sit on it... it creaks... and I just don’t have the heart to part with it...