there were not many things that i "had to have" from her house when my grandma beale passed away. i had plenty of great memories in my mind + frankly i preferred to have her instead. there was plenty that family members threw my way - literally - perhaps feeling too guilty to give it away to strangers so soon but not wanting to take it themselves. i took most of this stuff - pots, pans, picture frames - that i knew i'd never use, because maybe even i too felt guilty not to take them all in that moment. however, there were two items that were left over that i gladly claimed - a wardrobe that stood in grandma's bedroom + a beautifully worn, cut-velvet, mustard-colored chair. i don't know how i got lucky with these two pieces + i couldn't have been happier that they were overlooked.
i have the best memories of my grandmother in that chair, sitting in the corner of her room, putting on her stockings + shoes every morning, taking them off before bed each night. the sides, much darker than the seat + back cushions, which have permanent imprints of where she sat each time. until i got that chair, i don't think anyone else ever sat in it and i'm comforted to know they're her marks only.
despite the small corner that my cat has made his own (insert eye-roll here) and the unique fabric color + print that some find dated. i am in love with this chair. if i can help it, it will simply be mended over the years, not replaced or recovered. and when the time is right in my life, i will move it from our living area to our bedroom where i can sit in it each morning + each night. putting on, taking off, reading, crying, laughing. remembering her.