It was 1995 and we were just married.  We’d moved to a new apartment and we needed something bigger to occupy our living space.  The “dog couch” and cheap black lounger with equally cheap ottoman would not suffice anymore.   So we bought the big sectional.  It was huge, heavy, and green.  And it had a seat for Michael, a seat for myself, a pull out bed, and most importantly a cubby for our smoking apparatus.

When we moved to New Orleans, it came with us.  Michael and I moved that beast out of my parents’ garage apartment and into our house on General Pershing, all by ourselves, vowing never to move it again.  Those were the days that I proved to Michael that I was strong.  Carrying my end out of that apartment and into the shotgun house, used every ounce of strength I had in me.

That couch became a space of comfort, and it opened up for friends and family to sleep on as well.  We’d moved it into the front room, the middle room, and even had a piece of it in our room (when we moved it to the front room.)   But we didn’t move it out of the house when we decided to give Buffalo one more try.   We left the people who bought it from us to that task.

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{Visit Stephanie to find out what this writing exercise is all about!}

My friend, Lisa, has a gift.  She makes the most beautiful jewelery that I’ve ever seen.  Along with the gift of being an extraordinary jeweler, she has the gift of compassion and giving. With every purchase of the Hope Necklace, she is donating a third of the proceeds to help the devastated people of Haiti.

A special delivery arrived a couple days ago…

Written on the card: