I first saw my brown chair about 30 years ago at the Macy’s Furniture Gallery at Perimeter Mall.
The chair, called The Writer’s Chair, is made by Ralph Lauren, and you can still buy one new today for $15,000. When I sat in the one at Macy’s I thought to myself: “Some day” – the way a young boy looks at a jet fighter or a race car.
Used examples today are advertised for over $10,000. I bought mine about 5 years ago from an extraordinary gentleman who was moving to a smaller residence due to his health – for about $500. He had advertised it for $1,000 and I talked him down. I could tell he wasn’t happy to let it go for such a low price – but I think he was glad I was so happy to have it.
Recently we’ve spoken about this chair. You mentioned that we’ll find a place for it in our new home. That’s an incredibly loving thing – on many levels.
I have other special chairs. One is a Windsor style rocker that my mother used to rock me in as an infant. Another is a 100 year old swivel office chair that my dad had in his study.
The idea of moving them has given me some pause.
After a day or two of mulling it over, I’ve concluded that these heirlooms are simply chairs. Maybe the best part about them is that I can tell stories about them. But in the end, they are just chairs. I’ve sat in garage sale La-Z-Boy recliners that were just as comfortable – and useful.
It’s a good reminder to me to consider what’s really important.
In the closing of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree, the boy has grown to an old man and the tree is nothing but a stump. Over his lifetime, the tree gave the boy all his apples, branches and trunk – and feels he has nothing left.
The boy responds – all he needs is a place to sit and rest – a stump is perfect.
