Friday, December 24, 2010

Empty Chairs and reflections on Christmas past

Maybe it's the season, my age, or the wine I had at the family dinner, but I'm feeling very reflective.  If I tend to ramble, you will forgive me?  It's warm outside, not hot omg why do i live in louisiana warm, but not ho-ho-ho sleighbells ring either.  The traditional Italian dinner always sets me to thinking of empty chairs.  The chairs of Christmas' past that were filled with friends and family we don't have anymore.  When you are little and sitting at the kids table, you long to fill a grown ups chair, be one of the big people.  Why am I with these little kids, I'm sooo much bigger than them, your 7 yr old self says.  But, too soon, we are at the grown up table, in a grown up chair.  We're with our parents and our kids are at the kids table.  I'm at the point in my life in which my Dad's chair is empty now.  My kids are at the grown up table.  My Mom is in her chair, but she gets smaller and more frail each year.  Her chair seems half empty already. 

I guess the point of this, if there is a point besides the one that I'm in a melancholy mood, is that we should try and appreciate the filled chairs around us.  I know that's hard sometimes, and there've been times when I've wanted to pick up my Mother's chair (with her in it) and toss it out the window.  But I digress.  Thank God for those chairs, and ask that He save a spot for the ones headed to His table when they leave ours.


  1. We definitely tend to not appreciate the filled chairs until they start to empty. With both my parents gone, I've become them. I'm now one of the "head chairs" that Mom or Dad would have sat in. I understand now how much they appreciated the chairs we filled, as I now appreciate the ones occupied here. I'm dog tired from the day's activities, but the raucous laughter and craziness as the kids filled the house is worth it. Don't forget to tell those filling the chairs how important they are to you...while you still can.

  2. Pretty profound, so true, sad and at the same time, eye opening
    I love you!!!!!!!!

  3. Donna, It struck me at a funeral for an old Aunt, that my siblings and I were moving up on that ladder. OMG! I'm Aunt Rosalie! I looked around at the young cousins, grandkids of my cousins, and knew they were looking at me as I once looked at the older relatives during these forced gatherings. But you're right, we sometimes don't appreciate what we have til it's gone.