I have a chair. When I first saw the chair, I knew I had to have it. It was different, it was unlike any chair I’d had before, so I went all in and invested in it.
The chair was comfy, it was stable, and it just went with everything I already had in my life. I took the chair everywhere with me.
Over the years, the chair developed a few cracks, it became worn and had a few scuffs here and there, but this just made me appreciate the chair even more. It had character; every chip, every mark told a story.
Then one day, a leg fell off the chair. It was no longer stable; it couldn’t stand up on its own. It needed to be repaired. I had a choice. I could throw the chair away and get a new one, or I could try and mend the chair.
The leg was put back on, but it wasn’t the same. It was no longer comfortable, it wobbled, and I had no idea how long it would last before it broke again. A shortwhile later, it did break. Not just a leg this time. The whole chair collapsed.
I still wanted the chair, but it was broken beyond normal repair. I seriously considered getting rid of it, but I was convinced it was worth keeping. I sent the chair to a specialist who assured me that they could make it as good as new.
And they did.
When the chair was given back to me, it was as though I was looking at it for the first time. Except it was different. Those scuffs and marks were still there, and the chair had retained its character and still had a story to tell, but the legs were stable. It was robust, sturdy, and I just knew that the chair would stay with me forever.
Everyone has a chair, and everyone’s chair will break at some point. You could just discard it, throw it away, even replace it. But that’s the easy option. If the chair really means that much to you, try to fix it; if you can’t fix it, there will be a specialist who can help.
If the specialist can’t fix it, at least you’ve tried, and done everything you possibly could. But if there’s a chance your chair could be saved, isn’t it worth the try?
Dedicated to my chair specialist, Fiona; and the person who made me learn to love my chair all over again.