Furniture

Today in Sunday school we talked about remodeling a home. And then I thought about what my house looked like before we remodeled it. I miss it. The old furniture still exists, I think. The last time I saw it was in my dad’s apartment four years ago.

My house may be more aesthetically pleasing now than it was four years ago, but it’s lost the warmth of a home and become a barrack for a cold war. I wrote in Hundred a Day that I’ve filled the void my dad left me, but that was a lie. I imagine it would be hard for most first world citizens to miss scratchy couches, regular white carpet, and a plain, wooden coffee table, but those are the things I associate with once having a whole family. And no amount of paint, tile, new furniture, or child support can replace that.

edit: This sounds more depressing than I intended.