That Chest

I moved to a loft not long after
my ex walked out. My only
neighbor was a sculptor named
Debbie. We kind of hit it off
because she has MS too. Things
got pretty bad in her life and she
had to leave in a hurry. Our
landlord sold off her stuff. I
made off with an antique chest
of drawers and an antique-
looking Indonesian credenza.
No one knew if it really was as
antique as it looked. All we
knew for sure was that it had
resided on that second floor
for a number of years already.
I lived there for almost five
years, so by the time I left,
that chest hadn't left that floor
in more than eight years. My
last night there, the new resident
of the loft across the way moved
in. My front door was open
as my friends carried all my gear
into the moving truck. My
neighbor for a night introduced
himself, saying he was brand new
in town and didn't have a thing
to his name. I told him I had a
number of items he could have,
including, I said, this beautiful
Indonesian chest. After only a few
moments he said yes. As I watched
his front door close, the credenza
safely and happily behind it, I
found myself overwhelmed with
joy. How fantastic that we can
say goodbye to all the bits and
pieces that made up our lives,
the bitter and hard parts of it,
see them off to safe havens,
then sneak off to get a good
night's sleep.

(2007)