I turned ten in 1957, and my grandpa had been gone since June of 1955. This was the last year in my grandparent's large English Tudor house as she sold it and moved in the early spring of 1958. I was still young enough to have dolls and play in my room at her house. Christmas was always spent away at her house until she moved in with my parents when she turned 80. My husband never saw the inside of this house, as Grandma Jo lived in an apartment when I met him.
The couch was bought when she sold the grand piano the year before. It fit very well in her new apartment. It was great for naps after long hours of homework on weekends. It moved with her to the room built onto my parents home.
I remember this Christmas as a happy one. The sadness of losing Grandpa was lifted and moving to a new place seemed to brighten her up.