The Chair eventually went to chair heaven, but not before every spring was sprung, upholstery (second time round) completely worn, strange lumps that conformed to no one's body developed, and the recliner function became useless for even the most stout-hearted. Bumma replaced it with a white recliner, scaled once again for diminutive folks. After she went on to that comfy reading chair in the sky, our daughter got it, where it was promptly claimed by her then (now ex) husband who dragged it to his man shack in the back yard. It turned dark gray from the smoke and general grime. When they split, it was too filthy to reclaim so it remained with him. I still feel guilty I let it go to such a fate.
|My mother in her throne, the last month of her life.|