getting a hug...

It was a blistering hot day in July.  A few friends and I were out rummage-saling for furniture. I had just moved to Utah.  The living room was bare the bank account was too, so rummage-saling was the absolute only option.  It had been a few hours and a few cheap buys before I spotted him - abandoned on the side of a dead-end street, dirty-white in color, saggy from the heat of the Utah sun, and smelly.  It wasn't his appearance which caught my attention but rather the gigantic sign he held in his arms which read, FREE in bright-red letters.  We stopped, took a look for creepy crawlies, had a seat...and whoa!  This chair was perfect.  Dirty and old as it was, after one sit I was in love.  I couldn't let a poor neglected, over-stuffed, comfy spot go to waste.  Ten minutes later, Old Stuffy found a new home in the truck bed.  Once home, after a good shampoo and disposal of a few cushions, that old stuffy chair found a perfect place in my living room.  Today, it's the spot from which I write to you. 

Remember I once mentioned writing is therapeutic?  Today is one of those nights I am writing only to write.  Why not write about an over-stuffed chair which has given me so many comfortable moments in these last nine months?  You're right, there is no reason not to.  I will.

This chair is more than a just a chair for sitting.  It serves many purposes all of which include, but are not limited to:  lounging, dining, working, writing, chatting, paying bills, contemplating life, texting, facebooking, sipping tea, reading the funnies, and the ever so popular sport of napping.  Yet, with all these uses, this chair serves an even greater purpose in my life these days.  Many times, this chair has served as a hug.  Now, don't start feeling sorry for me.  Just listen and you'll understand.

This chair has huge arms.  I can curl all the way up in its pillows and surround myself with its warmth.  Unlike a person, this chair has never-ever let me down.  It has supported my weight and my many, many, meals of spaghetti, without a single complaint.  Never have I gone in for a sit and been rejected.  When I come home after a long day, exhausted and ready for a place to rest, this chair is waiting for me with open arms.  On rainy Saturday mornings, I enjoy lounging with this chair, sipping tea and quietly thinking, the chair thinks with me.  When I argue with the chair, I always win.  When I talk to the chair, the chair doesn't give unwanted advice.  When I ask the chair life altering questions, the chair silently lets me know I shouldn't worry.  I love this chair...and I think this chair loves me too.

Of course, a chair is no substitute for the human hug.  I hate to write it, (and please don't tell my chair) but in the sad event I'd get rid of the chair or the chair became stolen or lost, I would not be too heart-broken.  So, really whatever feelings I have for this chair are, in actuality, very minuscule compared to my feelings for the many people and passions in my life.  At this very moment, however, I find this chair and my place in it to be the very best possible place I could be on this earth. Curled up, cuddly, warm, happy and safe, in the hugging arms of my Big-White-Over-Stuffed-Free chair.

Do you have such a "chair" in your life, dear Void?  It is my hope you do.  For, for anyone to go through life without a place to feel such warmth, would be a very sad life indeed.