My Couch

One year ago today, Sammy died. Life changed dramatically in a matter of a moment. Somehow we all managed to breathe through the crushing grief for an entire year. A year. It's been a year?

It's been a strange day. I've been through the motions of a seemingly "normal" day. Got kids ready and off to school. Had a dentist appointment. Laundry. Dinner. Baths. Family scriptures. Nothing unusual.

On the inside, though, I've been thinking back to one year ago all day. The moment I heard Laura's voice. The moment I saw Kasey over his daughter. Praying with Sammy's sisters. The police officer's face when he told me. The feeling of Laura and Kasey in my arms as they wept. So many images.

But one thing has stood out to me in a strange way over the last year that I haven't ever acknowledged out loud. My couch.

I had wanted it for so long. I hate my couch. It was a light, micro fiber sofa. It was filthy. It absorbed every bit of dirt it could. My kids had drawn on the cushions. There were stains on every side of every cushion. I hated that couch and I'd given up trying to keep it clean at all. It was so ugly and embarrassing. It wasn't even very comfortable.

So we bought a perfect leather sectional with our tax return last year. I was so happy to throw out the old couch! I couldn't even bring myself to sell the sickening thing. We just left it outside for whoever wanted it.

I was so proud of my new couch! (Still am.) It was pretty and clean and bigger and more comfortable! And it was leather. That meant low maintenance cleaning! :)

It's been over a year since we got that couch. And now, it is so much more than just a couch to me. That couch is a sacred place.

This couch is a sacred place for my family. It is where we play together. It is where we lounge together. It is where we celebrate together. It is where we hold Family Home Evening and family scriptures and prayer. It is where we (sometimes) sleep or eat together. We do so many things together on this sacred couch.

One year ago today, this couch became a hallowed place for me. It is where I knelt and prayed for my friends. It is where I watched them tell their daughters, with grief and faith, that they're sister was with their Father in Heaven. It is where we grieved, day after day. It is where hands were placed upon heads, and sacred priesthood blessings were pronounced. One year ago today, this couch welcomed and invited. It offered a place for friends and family to mourn and grieve and cry and love together.

I see it every time I look at my couch. I don't love this couch because it's pretty or comfortable. (Although it is.) I love my couch because of what it means in my life. Because it is a sacred, hallowed place. Because every time I sit there I think of Sammy, so small, being nursed by her mommy. I think of the example she set and the lessons she and her family have taught me over the last year. I think of the services that have been given to me because of her. I think of the way she changed me as a mother.

My couch is a sacred, sacred place.