In Venezuela, my country (and I suppose in other Latin American countries as well), we used sofa-type furniture made of wood, consisting of a structure of pallets, as they called them. These formed the backrest and seat, and could seat two people, in principle. They were part of a set that included a coffee table and two or three individual armchairs. It was a job that could be described as cabinetmaking.
My parents had a set of this type of furniture in their house. They were already there when I was born, and I saw them throughout the time I lived in that house. To be honest, I never asked my parents or sisters when or where they bought them; I can no longer find out, as they have passed away, as have my two older sisters.
A few years after I moved into my own house and started living independently, my mother wanted me to take the sofa and coffee table, which I still have, despite all the moves I've made in my adult life, and I try to keep them in the best possible condition. They are a significant part of my history, memory, and family nostalgia. Memory is never abstract; it always refers to something, even if it is blurred or ambiguous.
Here are some recent photos of the sofa.
