We moved to Chicago a few weeks ago. We lucked into a fantastic apartment. It’s furnished, but sparsely. So we—I mean my wife, Gaywynn—set out to acquire items that we’ll need for our six-month stay. That started with a chest of drawers and a few tables.
Gaywynn hit Facebook Marketplace running. Soon enough, she’d found two tables and a chest of drawers from three different sellers all at highly-reasonable prices. She closed the deals, one by one.
Then it was up to me to fetch each piece of furniture with our car. This I did, driving to a different part of the city for each one.
All three pieces were sold by young couples in their twenties. All three couples were moving to bigger apartments, hence the selling. Each apartment I went to was in a state of high disarray of moving. All three had the male help me haul the furniture down the inevitable narrow, angular staircase. All three couples were cheery even in the face of the daunting task of moving. All three were moving to places not far from the apartments they were leaving. All three couples seemed happy.
How to define “happy”? I define it as young, healthy, bright-natured, in love, starting their young lives together.
Many of us were that young couple once. All energy and optimism. A couple ready to take on the world. Barring unforeseen tragedy or ill health, they’re fine with not having a lot of money—all the apartments I visited were not plush, just young couple apartments.
When you’re young and in love you don’t need a lot of money to savor life. You want enough to pay the bills, but if you can do that, you’re free to be happy. By your own resources. You can make dinners for your friends, go to concerts in the park, ride your bikes, shop at farmer’s markets, spend time at local coffee shops and talk for hours, buy slices of pizza, walk your dog together on a new morning. Did you do that, or some version of that? Were you distraught at not having a ton of money? What was there to be distraught about?
I didn’t get to know these young couples. Our meetings were brief. They ended when we put the tables or the chest of drawers in the back of my car. I wish them all well. But I don’t think they need my good wishes. They’re young and in love and are starting another part of their lives in a new place where they will have adventures they deserve to have, the kind you have when you’re two people who see the world as all possibility.
Gaywynn informed me yesterday that we need a rug. Soon enough, she’ll find one, and I’ll go fetch it. If things go according to plan, I’ll meet another young couple, happy together, about to move, their apartment in disarray. I’ll bask in that happiness, long after we haul the rug down the narrow stairs and put it in the back of my car, and I drive, somewhat reluctantly, away.
I agree that young people can be like a breath of fresh air. Still, I wouldn't want to go through all that turmoil and changing again, exciting though some of it was. (They were probably wishing they could have the peace and time to chill that you do.)
Poignant piece, as usual, Richard, but, I am puzzled about how that dining table works. Looks as if you need very tall chairs that would be hard to climb at your age.