upper waypoint

Steven Birenbaum: This Old Couch

Steven Birenbaum at KQED in San Francisco on June 4, 2025. (Spencer Whitney/KQED)

Steven Birenbaum reflects on his decision to give away a piece of furniture with sentimental value after his mother passed away.

After my mother died suddenly and unexpectedly, I had a brief window to choose what to take from her home of 51 years, the house I grew up in.

Entwined in sadness, I went around with blue sticky notes. It was unlikely I’d be back in New York before the house was listed for sale, so I chose mostly smaller stuff: framed art, photo albums, even a Frisbee. On the back of it, my mom, in her looping handwriting, had written my parents’ initials, A&C, encircled by a heart, and 1968, the year before I was born.

Seeing that heart broke mine.

Sitting in the snug living room of my childhood home, processing the surreal nature of the past month’s events, I ran my hands over a handsome leather couch I’d long admired. Made by a top furniture designer in France, its rich brown leather was buttery smooth, the wood frame the most elegant rosewood color I’ve ever seen.

On went a blue sticky note.

Later, my brother and nephew wrapped it in moving blankets and bubble wrap. For a small fortune, it traveled across the country in a pod, with the artwork and other objects I chose.

After it arrived, we tried the couch in different places, but it just didn’t fit. I also admit it was more worn than I remembered.

Grief will do that.

I put it up for sale. For a year and a half, there were inquiries but no sale. Perhaps conflicted, I had priced it too high.

Then, two weeks ago, a guy in San Francisco bought it. What felt like a millisecond later, a father and daughter moving team rang the doorbell. Quietly, they swaddled the couch in blankets and shrink wrap and carried it out.

It all happened so fast, I barely had time to say goodbye.

A friend called the couch a “transitional object.” On reflection, I don’t think it was an accident I chose something so tactile to remind me of her.

Sometimes, Dr. Freud, a couch is more than just a couch. With a Perspective, I’m Steven Birenbaum.

Steven Birenbaum is a writer who works in philanthropic development.

lower waypoint
next waypoint
Player sponsored by