You came into my life when I was really sick, when sleeping in bed with an IV was pretty impossible. The Lovejoy family in my ward heard of my plight and donated their well-loved and care-worn chair so I could sleep more comfortably. You, dear recliner, did just that. We spent many miserable nights together, both during the IV/PICC line phase of my pregnancy and during other phases of those long nine months, when insomnia, heartburn, and/or swelling made sleeping in my bed so uncomfortable.
You were cool and comforting on hot summer nights. You were soft and squishy when other chairs were hard and stiff. You offered a comfortable place to rest my swollen feet. Garry now adores you because he fits your contours just perfectly. And of course my children love you, both for your spinning and your reclining capabilities. My walls do not love all the holes you put in them, but I imagine you don't love crashing into the walls too much, either.
Dear recliner, it is time for you to have a new home. We don't really have the space for you (especially because you're sitting in the spot where we put our Christmas tree). The kids fight over you. And I know that beggars can't be choosers, but I'm not crazy about the way you look. A really nice lady in our ward will take you away in a couple of days, and I am sure her family will love you a lot.
And even though I'm super grateful for your timely service, I'll be glad not to remember hard times whenever I look in the corner of the living room.