Goodbyes are never easy. 

Shakespeare famously captured that pain when Juliet proclaimed, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”  Yet, her goodbye was “sweet” as it was balanced by her confidence that she would soon again be in the company of her forbidden love, Romeo.

When you know for a fact, however, that a specific moment in time will mark your final goodbye, the hurt hits immeasurably deeper.

Such was my experience yesterday afternoon.

With staff quietly milling about and the hum of a flickering florescent light overhead, I said my last goodbye.  Doubtful anyone in the room knew the impact this loss would have on my life, I said a prayer of gratitude for my trusted friend who has guided me for decades. First, when I was a young wife and mother and then as an aide for my adult children as they left the warmth and safety of my nest.  It was a rare relationship that seemingly offered me everything…exactly when and where I needed it…be it in bed, bath or beyond.

Yes, I am speaking longingly about the American big box retail chain Bed, Bath & Beyond, and I am devastated over their closure.

Thinking back to the days when my glove compartment could barely close because of the stockpile of 20% coupons I had jammed in there that came in the mail or cut out of newspaper ads.  The joy I would feel when the holy grail of coupons…20% off entire purchase…made its way into my hands, or the altruistic buoyancy my heart would feel when I would hand an extra coupon to the person behind me because I had 12 with me but was only purchasing 11 items.  (Ok, fine, I would only share expired coupons, but it was no big deal because the cashier always accepted them.  Could that have been the beginning of their end from an earnings perspective?)

The store opened my eyes to the good life in their bedding department.  Thread count meant nothing to me until their linen section had pillowcase samples out to touch, so words like percale, Supima and Egyptian cotton became part of my vocabulary.  My couch potato game hit new heights (or lows) when BB&B tempted me to get the UGG faux fur throw blanket.  You could test drive pillows, albeit through a plastic bag, and you were introduced to more warmth level and fill options of down comforters than you ever thought possible.

Not to mention the one day, a random endcap display introduces you to a luxury pillowtop mattress pad and you’re left thinking, “Where have you been all my life?”

And my gosh, the bath section?  Bath sheet, bath towel, guest towel, hand towel, washcloth, shower curtain…so many colors it would make your head spin. Need a toothbrush holder?  Better get the matching soap dish, tissue holder, waste basket and shower caddy.  You’ve got enough coupons…just go for it!

But it’s the beyond part of Bed, Bath & Beyond that always sucked me in.  From little things like corn cob holders shaped like tiny corn cobs to Tupperware of every size and shape, potato peelers and salad spinners, heart-shaped cookie sheets and star-shaped melon ballers.  You introduced us to healthy smoothies with the Magic Bullet commercial running alongside your display.  How could we say no? Got my Keurig from you, pancake griddle, George Foreman grill, Shark sweeper, cleaning supplies, shoe caddies, Sonicare toothbrush, picture frames, beach chairs, tablecloths, greeting cards and every single “As Seen On TV” product.  I purchased a digital scale there that I’ve never stepped on and Santa once gave Maddie the SodaStream make-your-own soda machine whose allure lasted almost 24 hours. Where am I to turn in a pinch now when I need a giant tub of cheese balls, napkin rings and silver polish?

BB&B was there for me with boxes of 12 reasonably priced wine glasses in those early years when dinner parties with friends went way past dinner hour and were met with a chorus of “nice pour” followed by the inevitable sound of breaking glass.  And you were there for me when I sent my children off to college.  Who the hell else would know that there was such a thing as XL Twin Sheet sets but you?  And when I said goodbye to those darling girls, I knew they wouldn’t be alone because you’d be there for at least the next week… in a BB&B pop-up tent right there on campus.  So, I could sleep well knowing that if they had a pressing need for a box of 50 more premium velvet hangers, you had their back.

Two weeks ago, I helped Clare move into her first solo apartment.  I visited your Clybourn Ave location in Chicago, and the shelves were almost bare. Nothing on my shopping list was left in stock.  So, I went to Target and stopped a red polo-wearing team member near the bedding department. “Excuse me, do you carry a dust ruffle?”  Blank stare. “Ummm, you know, a bed skirt?”  Eyebrows furrow.  “It’s the linen thing that you put between the box spring and the mattress, so you don’t see the bed frame?”  As she responded with a slow, drawn out, multi-syllabic, “Noooooo,” I felt a single teardrop fall.  I miss you already, dear friend.

As your neon sign dims forever, please know you made my world a better, one-stop-shopping-always-20%-off place.   May you rest in peace while I sit and Google, “dust ruffles near me.”

kmp xo