The Empty Chair

The grieving family all sat in a row. We stretched the whole length of it. Except one. The chair next to me was eerily empty. For over 14 years I have had to deal with empty chairs. But this seemed extra empty. Probably because I was at my late husband's father's funeral. The fact they have hugged each other and are reunity is a joy. But one I can not part take in yet. Another connect to my Jim is no longer here. And at times it makes him feel so far away.

The Internet will help you with anything. I used it to calculated it out the days. I have been a widow 5,325 days!!! That is having to deal with a whole lot of empty chairs. I have learned how to survive and even thrive, but tears still come some times. And this was one of them. 

I wrapped my hand around a small rock and squeezed hard. I texted a friend an "!". I breathed. I prayed. I listened to others sing. I laughed at the funny things said. I shed more tears. And I said "amen" to every word spoken I heartily agreed with. I went through the whole service. I survived. 

Then I stood up and with the rest of the family and followed the casket of my amazing God-loving, God-fearing father-in-law. I thanked God for his impact on my life. 

The cemetery was beautiful. The wind blew through the trees and reminded me of the day God spoke to me, came running after me. God is in this place. My neice stood in front of me. I crossed my arms acrossed her. She leaned into me. A reminder the the next generation that needs cheerleaders and prayer warriors. We sang. We left. 

Later, I came back alone. The dirt was leveled out. The wind still blew. God is still in this place. I placed my flowers on top of Dad Scott's grave. No tears. Just peace.