Family Fixture
When Paul and I were little, we lived in Barrington for a short time, and we had two couches. One was the adult couch. The nice one in the living room where our parents entertained. That couch was strictly for sitting. The other couch was for us kids, and I seem to remember our parents telling us it was for jumping. Now, I was probably four years old, so I may have misunderstood the instructions, but I remember being allowed to climb all over it.
Around 2006 or 2007, Mary and I decided to redo the back of our house. Our home was built in 1903, an American Foursquare with a wraparound porch. I've always loved modern architecture, so we decided the front of the house would remain traditional and the back would be contemporary. We opened up what had been an odd collection of rooms and created a family room with a surround sound system, separated from the kitchen by a counter.
We had a custom couch built that wraps around the room. It has two reclining seats, storage underneath the couch with a section that pulls out into a bed. The whole thing is built into the floor, much like the furniture in a Frank Lloyd Wright house. There's a lot going on with this couch. And it's bright orange. Really bright orange.
For almost twenty years, that couch has been the center of our family.
Griffin was just home from LA for a wedding. Where did he want to sleep? The couch. Grace came over after work the other day and immediately took a nap on it. Audrey did the same thing after teaching a bunch of little kindergartners before we left for CrossFit. Both girls grabbed blankets, announced they just needed thirty minutes, and were out. As I'm writing this, Mary is asleep right next to me. I like having everybody back on the couch, even if they're unconscious most of the time.
When Mary and my business folded in the winter of 2009, we were trying to save money anywhere we could. We hung blankets across doorways to close off parts of the house so we wouldn't have to heat them. The living room and dining room were shut off, and we spent most of our time in the back of the house.
I remember one night when Mary's parents were over. The couch comfortably seats five, but somehow all seven of us were stretched out on it under a pile of blankets, watching a movie. The house was probably 65 degrees. I remember looking around and thinking we looked like the grandparents in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, all sleeping head to toe in the same bed.
I can laugh about that image now, but I was extremely sad at the time. We had spent twenty years building a business, and now it was gone. I was worried about money and what was going to happen next not having a job. I felt terrible that I couldn't provide for my family the way I thought I should. I remember looking at everybody piled together on that couch and being glad we were all there, together.
I also remember sitting on that couch the morning my mom died. I was supposed to go to the hospital, but I really didn't want to. I had a feeling that this was going to be the day she died, and I wasn't ready for it. While I was sitting there, robins kept flying into the window. They weren't just hitting it once. They kept coming back, almost deliberately banging against the glass. I remember thinking they were trying to tell me something.
I've paid more bills than I can count sitting on that couch. I've written most of my blogs there, including this one. We've talked with kids about colleges, money, work, new business ideas, and everything else that comes with raising three kids. I've also sat all three of them down and screamed because I was tired of watching them lounge around while Mary and I did all the work. We built this great place for everybody to relax, and then I'd get mad because nobody wanted to get off it.
Something else that might seem odd, considering what I do for a living, is that we've only ever had one television in the house. It's in front of that couch, and the flat screen is probably twenty years old. I've spent my career designing technology systems for homes with televisions in practically every room, and here I am with one old TV.
We never allowed the kids to have televisions in their bedrooms. If you wanted to play Xbox, Wii or watch something on the big screen, you did it in the family room. That meant a lot of negotiating. If someone was already watching something, you waited until they were finished. Picking a movie could sometimes take longer than watching it.
The other day I was at a client's house, and they were asking whether it was time to replace their televisions. They had five of them just on one floor. I started thinking about our one old television and how different our house might have been if everybody had their own screen in their own room. I remember another client telling me that after dinner, everybody in their family went off to separate rooms to watch their own shows. I couldn't imagine that happening in our house.
I'm not suggesting there's anything wrong with having five televisions. I make my living helping people figure out exactly that kind of technology. But I do wonder how many evenings we would have spent together if we'd all had somewhere else to go.
Our kids are adults now. They have their own apartments, friends, televisions, and lives. Yet when they come home, they still head for our orange couch. Sometimes they watch something, sometimes they talk, and sometimes they just pull out a blanket and fall asleep.
The couch is showing its age. The fabric has been through nearly twenty years of our family, and replacing it isn't really an option. It's built into the house. We'd practically have to renovate the room to get rid of it.
Griffin's back in LA now, the girls are at their apartments, and I'm sitting here writing this with Mary asleep next to me. I'm sure it won't be long before somebody comes over, grabs a blanket, and stretches out.
I think we'll keep it.
About Greenland Sharks
Greenland Sharks is a Chicago men's group who value friendship, experiences, and the long swim. Just a crew that shows up. No speeches. No name tags. No nonsense.
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