January 5, 2013
-
The Empty Chair
As far back as I can remember, a recliner sat in the corner of our living room. I loved that recliner and sat in it every chance I got, but it wasn't my chair. If I was sitting in the chair and Dad walked in, I knew that I needed to hop up right away because that was his chair and he wanted it empty when he was ready to sit down. He would sit in that chair on a long winter evening while Mom sat in an overstuffed chair with her feet on a footstool and listen as Mom would read chapter after chapter of a missionary story. I wasn't real old when I realized that Dad would head for that chair after lunch every day. He would't be there long, but he would power nap before heading out to visit someone in the community or to minister to someone who had dropped in.
First one and then another recliner moved into that spot as they aged and no longer provided a comfortable resting place. After Dad and Mom retired the recliner found a new corner in their new home. It was soon replaced by a recliner with a lift making it even more fun for the small children, but it was still Dad's chair and the children would vacate it when Grandpa needed his chair. As Dad weakened, he spent more and more time in the recliner and he faced less competition for the chair. He often rested in it and would leave his bed in the middle of the night to seek relief in his recliner.
A little more than a year ago, Dad moved to his chair and spent his final days there. He was reclining when we arrived to say our last good-byes and it was from that chair that he spoke to me for the last time. He was in that chair as my sister and I sat with him through the night and he was in that chair the last time I told him I loved him.
He no longer needs that chair as a place of relaxation since he's entered his eternal rest, but that chair still sits in its corner of the living room. As we spent Christmas week in New Mexico, I found myself avoiding Dad's empty chair. I knew that he wasn't going to walk in wanting his chair, but I still made sure that it stayed empty. Perhaps its emptiness was just a picture of the void we were feeling. Even though we rejoice that Dad didn't have to suffer long and we have the hope of the resurrection, his empty chair still brings a tear as we remember the man who filled it.
Comments (2)
Ditto your friend above. My Mom just left us to be with the Lord. I have such mixed feelings. She suffered so much here, it was a release for her to go. Hard to mourn when you know she is well and whole again, but still we miss her.
Love this post. I still have my dad, but I can totally relate to "his" chair. We would tease him sometimes, but he always won. He still has his chair!
Comments are closed.