Today I took down the crib. It hasn't been slept in for months. When Elly moved out of it, I just pushed it into a corner of her room. Without a child needing its comforting enclosure, it looked like a worn and bare skeleton. With tears and a wrench, I finally broke it down. And I remembered the day it was delivered to our Chicago loft. A co-worker of mine offered to let me have the crib that had been his daughter's. I was so moved by his offer; a man I knew well enough only for polite conversation was giving me the bed my child would sleep in.
I am quite certain I've never felt more connected to a piece of furniture. Now it's just a pile of wood by the curb. A true sign that there are no more babies at this house.
(For the record...as much as I would have loved to pass the crib along, it was in no shape for another baby. It was well-worn and rusted when I received it, not to mention the damage my girls contributed. And then there were all the missing parts Alex deemed "unnecessary" the last time he lowered the mattress. So...this bed is safer in crib heaven.)
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3 comments:
Your crib reminds me of the one we used for Fen. It was passed down to us from dear friends, Fen was the 5th baby to have used it! Those well-worn pieces of furniture are the fabric of our lives...I feel your pain!
Can't believe your home is crib-free now. It's hard for me to believe that Elly is not a baby anymore. That crib was certainly put to good use by your precious little girls.
Rest in peace, Smith family crib. Rest in peace.
Alex reminds me of my father. My dad judges the success of putting something together based on the number of pieces left over at the end. =)
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