“A chair is still a chair, even when there’s no one sitting there …” An empty chair, an approaching holiday, tosses us into a desperate wilderness without a map. And it’s messy off the map, no matter what age — this year, particularly so.
This post is for you, the one who is holding your breath a little too tightly to your heart because this is the season when that chair becomes so much more than a chair — and you feel like you are not going to make it through. You, covering up, yet cracked wide open. I see you.
I see your bravery, navigating through the wilderness of loss. I want to remind you – to remember with you – that this wilderness is not so desperate a place when we recognize that we are the embodied sum of our experiences with love.
What does it mean, to love so deeply that love grows, multiplies, expands, pours forth from within us … so much so that an empty chair could not hold all that love as easily as it did their body? How amazing are we that we can do that?
dEAr hEArT, let’s try to see only love in that chair this season – for there IS ONLY LOVE in that chair. I am heading into my fourth holiday without my beloved Ray on this side of the veil, and I have discovered that grace and grief make good traveling companions. With both of them beside us, we are not lost.
As the “unreal” fades away, love will stay.
May the events of 2020 give us reason to pause and focus on what really matters. Whether for reasons of loss or quarantine, we all know there will be too many empty chairs this holiday season.
Keep loving wildly, swEEt oNe. You will find your way. And so will I. Much love, gratitude, and many prayers coming your way. ❤ Bernadette
“A chair is still a chair, even when there’s no one sitting there …” from the song, “A House is Not a Home” by Hal David.
Remember, SHaRiNG is CaRiNG. If you found something that inspired, you may know someone else who will feel the same. Subscribe to this blog or follow me on Facebook!