The Empty Chair

It has officially been 6 months since Steve passed away.

Half of a year.

On the one hand, it seems like forever.

On the other hand, it feels like only yesterday.

At times, I still think he will walk in the door.

At other times, I struggle to remember what his voice sounds like.

We have now celebrated Hanukkah, New Years Eve, Valentine’s Day, Passover, his birthday, and the 4th of July without him.

Shelby turned 16 on July 8th and got her driver’s license.

I knew we HAD to truly celebrate this accomplishment and because of that, this weekend our resiliency was once again tested.

We had a Sweet 16 Party.

It was the first time we have been with the entire family since Covid began.

Everyone came ready to celebrate. It was so nice to be with family and friends again.

It was surprisingly comfortable. There were a lot of smiles, good food and laughter.

Shelby enjoyed every moment and was beaming. She is a little like her mama in that her birthday should be viewed as a National Holiday. It’s the one day you truly get to celebrate you and she truly enjoyed it.

During her party, I found myself enjoying every moment.

I was able to celebrate Shelby without moments of remorse. I greeted everyone and made sure that the party was running smoothly.

When it was time to be seated, my sister stood by me as we waited for everyone to find a seat. It didn’t even register to me that she was probably standing by my side knowing that I might feel alone.

My sister is truly the best.

We found an empty spot and sat down.

There was only ONE empty chair at the entire party and it was next to me.

Everyone sat with their respective family and both of my children sat with other family and friends. Even that was an accomplishment because neither of them worried about being near me.

I really didn’t even think about the empty chair next to me.

A few months ago, I am fairly certain that the empty chair would have brought me to tears. I know it would have reminded me that I no longer have a spouse.

But this weekend, I didn’t even really think about it until the next day. I like to think that maybe, just maybe, Steve was sitting in that chair next to me taking in all of the joy and happiness of the day.

There are still many moments of sadness in our home. We each have our triggers. But I now know that we HAVE to celebrate the good moments even though we are missing Steve.

On this rollercoaster of grief, we had moments of calm and celebration this weekend.

I know we have a long road ahead of us, but I am thankful that we are now able to feel joy and happiness.

I hope Steve can see how well our children are doing and I hope he knows that I am doing the best I can to make sure our family is safe and secure.

There will always be an empty chair at our table but we will have to choose to celebrate around that chair and know in our hearts that Steve is sitting in that chair proud of our resiliency and accomplishments in the face of great loss.