The Empty Chairs

By Christina S.

This isn’t a sad post. Honestly! This is a story about learning to love the empty chairs in my life, especially at the Holidays.

The Holidays are a time we are supposed to anticipate celebrating together with loved ones, but as I have gotten older more of those loved ones have passed on leaving not much behind other than a few physical reminders and cherished memories. At the Holidays these absences become more profound as the numbers around the table dwindles.

Throughout my life I have lost Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, a cousin, and dear friends but it wasn’t until we lost Mom 13 years ago and Dad 8 years ago, both at Thanksgiving time, that I truly took notice of the empty chairs. At first it was so hard to think about the chairs they would no longer fill. The stories not told. The Laughter not heard again. For years after Dad died I wanted to avoid celebrating in a way that would make me think about those empty spaces.

Since then the children and I have traveled on the Holidays. The year after Dad passed we flew to Stockholm for the Holidays. We have gone out to do other things like day trips and hikes. We have distracted ourselves with work and other busy things, but then, we had to start to think about being home for the Holidays again.

Truthfully, the one gift of the Pandemic was that it forced us these past three years to reflect on being home as a family during the holidays. We dragged out decorations and blew the dust off of them, even if it was half-hearted. We planned smaller festive meals together, and we shared new stories and memories. But most of all we began to embrace the presence of the empty chairs and find comfort in having them still with us and the loved ones they remind us of.

The chairs at the dinning table.

The Wing back Mom would sit in to watch us open presents every year.

Dad’s chair that he would sit in and watch a football game.

My Grandmother’s rocking chair.

Now when I see these chairs they no longer feel empty, but full of memories and love, and for that I am thankful.